The Last Dragon
by nievelion
Summary: He is the last of his kind, sealed away from the Nine Kingdoms by magic and his own bitterness and loneliness. Can Virginia break through the iron walls of his heart and beseech his aid to save the Kingdoms from the wicked Ice Queen?
1. Prologue: Imprisoned

**Prologue**: Imprisoned

He sat on his massive, scaled haunches, perched on the crumbling and shattered peak of a blasted mountain, claws gripping the rock in a studious unconcern for the immense height, as he gazed downward into the thorn-infested valley below. Rising from its center was the weathered, ancient tower of Queen Rapunzel's castle, its surface covered with intertwined and layered vines of ivy, so thick and choking that it appeared the vegetation were engulfing the tower in a calculated attempt to bring it tumbling to the earth.

It was the growth of a century, unchecked by any gardener or royal groundskeeper, for all such individuals slept blissfully unaware with the rest of the humans of the Sixth Kingdom, enthralled by the spell that had cast its shroud over this land and refused to break its hold, no matter the bravery, cleverness, guile, or genuine belief questors had borne with them through their fruitless attempts to set the kingdom free.

He flexed his enormous leathery wings, stirring the air with a steady and powerful gust of wind, and flicked one reptilian ear. Not that any of this was of any concern to him. If he gave the matter any thought at all, it was with a certain relief. None of those seeking fame and heroism, or simple justice for the hapless Rapunzel and the fair Beauty whose finger upon a spinning wheel's spindle had cast this spell, ever disturbed him. And as long as the kingdom remained beneath this pall, lost to the realm of dreams, he would be alone.

That was why he came here. That was what he sought. To be alone. Such had he always been, by the decree of this cruel world, and such would he always be, by his own unalterable choice.

There had been many like him once. Some wicked, yes, reveling in laying waste to the countryside of the Nine Kingdoms, strafing farms, villages, and castles with their incendiary breath. But most had been peaceful. Aloof, disdainful of human contact, isolate in their own sense of propriety, decorum, and wisdom, choosing to remain apart except when threatened, or when approached by one whose mission and heart they deemed worthy. But peaceful.

But one among their number had changed that, had wiped out the previous centuries of slow acceptance of his kind with a vicious vendetta. He growled venomously under his breath, steam and smoke leaking from between the razor-sharp teeth gleaming in his maw.

Even now, after almost two hundred years, the memory of it burned within him, the tale passed down through the generations, whispered in hushed voices within the caves where his people had been driven into hiding.

One among them had taken it upon himself to begin a reign of terror upon the Kingdoms, lending their entire race a tarnished reputation, entrenching a fear and distrust and terror in the people, greater even that that held by the House of Red and the descendants of Little Bo Peep for wolves. The reason for it had been lost in the past; perhaps he had been insulted, or attacked, or a misunderstanding had led to a festering rivalry and hatred. Or perhaps he had merely gotten up on the wrong side of the den that morning. Whatever had occurred, it had led to an act of terrorism so vile it horrified the entire population of the Nine Kingdoms.

And it had been an error in judgment for that particular firebreather. For his target had been the Dwarves of Dragon Mountain, one of the great peoples, seven of which had once welcomed Snow White herself into their home and cared for her. It had been a mistake that had led to his demise...his bones now guarded the entrance to the Dwarven mines. But the cost had been high—not only in the lives of those who came to slay him, but in the subsequent banishment of his people from the Ninth Kingdom.

A single tear formed in one of his luminous azure eyes and trickled down his hot cheek. He had been a hatchling when the exile had occurred, but he still remembered his ancestral home with pride and longing. The dragons could have stayed, of course, they were numerous and strong and well able to defend themselves against any and all intruders who might attempt to drive them out. After all, they were immune to magic.

But the loss of the good will and respect the people had once granted them...the shame they faced at knowing none of them would ever be trusted again...it was too much for them, and they had fled into hiding, scattering over the Kingdoms. And that had been their undoing. Divided, outnumbered, they had all perished...some to disease, some to the depredations of knights, some to the weather, some he was certain to simple loneliness.

Now he was the last.

He could not know this with any degree of certainty, if one needed proof that could be held in the paw and pointed to, displayed to inspire belief. Not unless he left his sanctuary, his refuge, and braved the dangers of the lands to search for others...something he would not do unless he had no other choice left to him. But in his heart, he knew it. He felt alone. Forgotten. If he did venture into the other Kingdoms, he wondered how many would even remember to fear him. To hate him. Cruelty had altered its shape from a swordthrust in the belly to uncaring neglect.

The dragons had been destroyed, not only by warfare and hunting, traps and lures and weapons, but by erasing them from the collective minds and thoughts of the people, relegating them to history as an oddity long gone, a fanciful tale. No one cared now...and he even began to wonder, on his days of deepest despair, if anyone ever had.

Why this should matter to him, he did not know. Why it had mattered to the dragons of two centuries past, he did not know. What he did know was that the rejection of those who had once revered dragons, and the yearning for a home where he could never dwell...it twisted his guts and clenched with claws of agony upon his heart. He knew not whether to hate the humans, the Dwarves, the Trolls, the Elves, or to pity them; to understand or not to understand; to be confused and angry or to ignore. At any time he might feel all or none of these emotions, but in the end result it came to the same conclusion. Solitude was his destiny.

It was a destiny he had accepted. But as he regarded the empty, silent stretches of the ensorcelled Sixth Kingdom and reflected on how they mirrored the state of his own heart, he knew it was a destiny he did not have to enjoy and could never take any pleasure in, despite how much better it was than the alternative...constant fear, shame, and anger as he faced the prejudice and hatred.

A sense of cowardice and inadequacy surged through him at these thoughts, thoughts that resembled cowering and running away from himself, but it was all he had left. However much he might hate himself for continuing these rationalizations, and wish to have company besides himself, it was better this way. Safer.

Shaking his shoulders in a motion that traveled all along his supple and undulating back, the dragon rose and spread his wings once more, this time tensing the powerful muscles of his legs and leaping into the sky. But as he wheeled against the crimson and orange horizon, fading into the deep blues and purples of night, and darted across the landscape toward the distant and lonely den he kept to the southwest, along the coast, he could not help but think his illusion of safety was a prison from which he would never escape.

* * *

(A/N: A few notes. This story is one I wrote right after the miniseries first aired...I think I started in 1999 and finished in 2000. Anyway, it was originally posted on a Tenth Kingdom bulletin board, and from there was included in the online fanfic archive, Kingdoms Press, where it remains to this day. It was also "published" as a fanzine which was taken to a fantasy convention (I forget which, but Sohna could tell you since she's the one who printed and distributed it) in 2000 or 2001. I say this not to toot my own horn but to let you know where else you might have heard of or seen it, if you have. But I decided to also post it here, just to give it a bit more publicity, since Kingdoms Press may or may not turn up on a lot of searches by people looking for Tenth Kingdom fics. So here it is!

Also: I am aware that the map of the Nine Kingdoms identified the castle in the Sixth Kingdom not as Queen Rapunzel's but as the Great Snoring Castle. I fully blame the very blurry and unfocused images from the miniseries I used for reference when writing this. By the time I saw a larger, clearer image on DVD, it was too late and I had already written a large portion of this, and woven Rapunzel into the narrative...so, I left it as is. For what it's worth, while I mean no disrespect to Simon Moore and the name does fit the overall feel of the Nine Kingdoms, I actually think Great Snoring Castle is a bit too silly anyway. :P So you can consider my fic an AU...not that it isn't anyway, with all the many sequels out there. R/R!)


	2. One: The Ice Queen Cometh

**One**: The Ice Queen Cometh

Virginia Lewis smiled to herself, wrapping her arms tighter around the warm, solid form of Wolf as they lay entwined together in her bed, both drifting in peaceful slumber. The last eight months with him had been sheer bliss. No more running, no more stress, no more desperation, no more fear. Much had been lost, but so much more had been gained, and now all she could do was remain here, content and happy, two things she had only dreamed she could be. It was as if she were a different person now, and so she was. But at the core she remained the same...a girl with a thirst for adventure and travel, but who no longer had any difficulty trusting.

Smiling, she watched Wolf as he scratched absently at his temple in his sleep, the mannerism a habit she found so endearing. It was because of him that her life had been turned upside down, from the moment she first met him in her grandmother's apartment until now. And although much had happened she wished had not, she would not change a single thing about it. Her mother's death still caused an empty, hollow throb in her heart, but the passage of time was dulling it, and she knew surviving the tragedy would make her stronger.

Resting a hand upon her swollen stomach, she caressed it softly. It was still hard to believe she and Wolf had created a new life, but now it seemed as if it had always been meant to be, and that Wolf had always been with her. The initial shock had faded long ago into pleasure and devotion, and in the eight months since her return to New York, she had spent almost every waking moment with him, reveling in this closeness and love they shared. Bereft of it so long, she practically glutted herself on it now, gulping it with a greediness that rivaled Wolf's propensity for meat. But it was a good feeling, finding what had been lost, filling the void, and it bonded them together more fully with every day.

Virginia touched her lips gently to his throat, then moved up his neck, planting kisses in a soft line upwards onto his cheek. Wolf opened his eyes halfway and grinned lazily up at her. "Why hello there...there seems to be a dreamy, creamy girl in my bed."

She smirked and ran her fingers playfully up his chest, playing with the hair. "And there seems to be a handsome, hairy wolfman in my bed...whatever shall I do with him?" She winked.

"I can think of a few things," Wolf said slyly. He kissed her long and tenderly.

Rubbing her hands down the soft silvery-gray fur along his backbone, Virginia rested her head on his chest. "So can I..."

For the next several minutes neither could speak, as they worked to apply their lips to every available inch of flesh. At last Virginia sighed and frowned. "I'm really not looking forward to going back to the Fourth Kingdom today," she commented. "I'm sure Wendell's going to pester us again about getting married."

"I know, love," Wolf murmured in her ear. "But you can't blame him...he has to deal with all those petty rulers and courtiers who think it's scandalous to have an unwed pregnant stepsister." He rolled his eyes. "He's being pushed to the wall...but he's only looking out for you, you know."

Virginia glowered, but said nothing for a long time. Finally she kissed his chest gently and exhaled slowly. "Yeah...I know. But...I want this to be my decision, not his, not theirs." She nerved herself, then continued, "And I will marry you someday, Wolf...I'm sure of it. But only when I'm ready."

Wolf smiled and tweaked her nose. "I know you will...and I respect you for it."

Virginia grabbed a pillow and slammed it into Wolf's face, laughing. "Why you arrogant..."

Her words were lost in a muffled shriek as Wolf returned the blow with another pillow. In moments both of them were in a full-fledged pillow fight, the soft down pillows whamming indiscriminately into any exposed body part. One blow struck Virginia on her pert derriere, and she stiffened in mock outrage.

Whirling, she bashed Wolf's crotch with her pillow, and he doubled over, face twisted in feigned agony. Giggling, Virginia lifted her pillow and brought it down on Wolf's head, but he abruptly snaked his hands under her arms and proceeded to tickle her ribs. Exploding into laughter, she collapsed on the bed, wriggling and gasping weakly. "No fair! You cheated..."

His eyes brimmed over with mischief. "Why of course...wolves are unscrupulous, you know..." Enfolding her in his arms, he gnashed his teeth and let out a soft growl. "Now let me punish you..."

She flushed slightly, then wrapped her arms around him. "Oh yes...punish me..."

Another long silence ensued, until Virginia broke the last fervent kiss and panted, "Oooo...what a terrible ordeal...can I stand another session of torture like that?"

Wolf grinned. "Only one way to find out..."

He was about to resume his attentive touches when a diffident knock came at the bedroom door. "Pardon me, Miss Lewis...I don't want to disturb you, but I simply must know something..."

Virginia snarled in a very unladylike manner. That was Mrs. Murray, again. Damn that magic bean! The obsequiousness it compelled had definitely lost its charm long ago, and it intruded at the most inopportune moments...

Rolling over, she covered her head with the pillow and willed the woman to go away, but to no avail. Without waiting for a reply, Murray's gorgeous wife opened the door and entered. Seemingly oblivious to Virginia and Wolf's unclothed state, wrapped in the sheets, she peered around hopefully, an expression Virginia detested greatly by now.

"Ah there you are, Miss Lewis! I was wondering if you had any idea when your father would be returning...his last visit was so brief, Bob and I were barely able to truly show him our appreciation for everything he's done for us, and what a wonderful man he really is..."

Linda babbled on for some time about Tony's greatness, until Virginia began to feel nauseous and had to put a stop to it. Tucking the sheet around her chest, she sat up and said rather loudly, "No, Linda, I don't know when he'll be coming back. But my fiancé and I will be going to visit him today. I can ask him then, and I'll be sure to tell him how much you want to see him again."

The tall blonde's face positively lit up with her joy, and she smiled broadly as she wrung her hands in glee. "Oh that's simply wonderful news! I'll be sure to tell Bob and the rest of the family." Her lips pursed as if in anticipation of the ass they longed to kiss, and Virginia could barely restrain her laughter.

Apparently overcome by this prospect, Linda nearly floated out of the room, calling back only once to note Justine would be waiting in the kitchen to fix them breakfast. As soon as the door closed, Virginia hurled the pillow at it and collapsed, exploding into laughter.

"Ooo how I hate that woman...but seeing her like that makes it all worth it!"

Wolf shook his head, chuckling, and kissed her cheek. "Huff-puff, I love it when you're enjoying yourself..."

Virginia ran her hands once more down his chest and then playfully pushed him off. "If we keep this up we'll never be ready in time to meet Wendell. And however much I may not wish to live through another one of his lectures, he is my stepbrother and I promised him we'd be there."

As she crawled across the mattress and leaned down to pick up her nightgown, Wolf gave her a small shove, sending her tumbling out of the bed. "Doesn't mean we can't have a little playtime before we go!"

Laughing anew, she scrambled to her feet and yanked on the sheet, spilling Wolf rather ignominiously on his backside, his tail swishing in annoyance. Before he could pursue her, Virginia dragged the sheet away with her, dashing to the door and disappearing into the bathroom. As the door closed she heard Wolf exclaim, "Ah, the thrill of the hunt! You always know what I love, Virginia!"

She leaned against the door and smiled in satisfaction. Could life get any better than this?

* * *

Howling winds drove knife-like blades of ice in a whirling frenzy all about the turrets, battlements, and parapets of the Ice Palace's frigid walls, marring the smooth, almost glassy surface of the structure with scratches and cracks. Blinding snow swirled from the heavens, blanketing the earth, making it impossible to see farther than a few feet from the frozen moat.

Across the vast wastes of the Eighth Kingdom, all features of the landscape were scoured clean by the endless snowstorm, pack ice and snowdrifts hundreds of feet high creating a repetitive vista of eternal winter, enshrouding every inch of ground as far as the eye could see, and far beyond that extent as well. It appeared as if the world had become ice, as if it were locked in another Ice Age.

And that was exactly the way the Ice Queen desired it to be.

She stood at the casement of an arched embrasure in the highest tower of her palace, a still, silent, slim figure blending into the maelstrom of snow and ice that assaulted the window before her. Pure white ermine wrapped her slender shoulders; pure white silk clothed her body; pure white hair cascaded down from her head in utterly straight locks, to knee level or below. Her finely muscled limbs and torso bore the pale, bluish-white blush of fine marble, delicately wrought, like the finest ice sculpture ever created for a banquet. Her lips were the dark violet-blue of frostbite, her face the ghastly white of the grave, although life suffused her high-boned cheeks. An aquiline nose, haughty brows, taut skin, tiny ears—all were etched by the same ice sculptor's tools. Her eyes were like chips of ice, such a pale blue as to freeze whatever she regarded, but yet they were a paradox, for they burned with the fiercest of fires within.

Yet ice, too, burns when it is freezingly cold, formed at the lowest realms of temperature...as was her heart.

Twisting her lips into the semblance of a smile, a motion that seemed somehow physically impossible, the Ice Queen turned from her rapt contemplation of the storm and crossed to the pale blue mirror hanging from the wall. It resembled a frozen lake tilted vertically, and icicles even encrusted its frame. Her reflection pleased her, as it always did. But while nothing lacked on the outside, she was well aware something was missing on the inside.

Satisfaction.

She sighed, a sound like crunching snow. For years she had languished here, alone, without power beyond her own borders, without the freedom to expand, to achieve her greatest desires. Oh, she had her amusements, the fishermen of the villages whom she toyed with, enchanted with her beauty, before slipping them silently into the grave with the gentleness of a blanket of snow, until they entered her realm and became part of her demesnes for good. But that was not enough, not nearly enough. She needed more.

And now at last, she had the means and the moment to give it to her.

It had taken years of patience and diligence, searching out all those who could possibly defeat her, and rendering them lifeless or otherwise impotent to intervene. She was still uncertain if she had found the last of her enemies, but if her surmises were correct, even if he lived he would be no threat to her. And she could spare no more time.

The aborted takeover of the Nine Kingdoms by Wendell's stepmother, the Evil Queen, had shown her two things: the danger of waiting too long to seize power, lest another supplant her; and that the time was ripe to strike, when the rulers were complacent, relaxed in the false sense of security the Queen's death had granted them.

"Now," she whispered aloud, her voice soft as her breath fogged before her. "Now is the time. We shall see how well the Kingdoms fare against me. Poison is far too crude for me...I shall use the cold...the inevitable death...the shroud of the burial mound. By all rights all should belong to me in any case, all come to me when they die. I shall only hasten the process."

Taking one last glance out the window, she turned and strode gracefully toward the door of her chamber, wrapping her ermine cloak tighter about her frame—not to ward off the chill, but to enfold it closer to her. She chuckled, the sound brittle, like shattering ice.

"It is time for the Ice Queen to extend the hand of cordial relations. A long overdue state visit to the Fourth Kingdom is needed." She tapped one long finger on her chin thoughtfully. "I wonder how his Royal Highness King Wendell will receive me...will he be like all other men, ensnared by my beauty? Or will he resist, and be suspicious? No matter...in the end the result will be the same..."

The Ice Queen extended one tapering arm and twitched her hand. A long, narrow rod slid from a concealed pocket in her sleeve, fashioned from what appeared to be ice yet was in truth much much stronger. She lifted it slowly, then touched one fingertip to the skewer-sharp tip, where a many-rayed star perched. A soft hiss escaped, and a sheen of ice puffed out to freeze the air around it.

"Once he is presented with my gift, he will be...enchanted by my charms, and frozen speechless." She smirked at her own joke, then passed soundlessly from the chamber, descending to prepare her coach.

* * *

King Wendell Winston Walter White sat in state upon his ornate throne, within the magnificence of his marbled throne room...and he was bored beyond belief.

He suppressed a yawn. Kingship was not at all what he had expected it to be. Oh, he did truly enjoy serving the people, caring for their welfare, and making sure peace and justice existed throughout his lands. But he had not counted on the quotidian minutiae to be so frightfully dull. Endless petitioners, with their petty problems that really could be solved by plain common sense on their own time, rather than wasting his. Endless documents, decrees, laws, and pardons that could be left to his advisors and lower functionaries to seal under his signature, most of which were not momentous enough or had enough far-reaching consequences as to require his personal attention. Endless Council meetings where the Lord Chamberlain and his other advisors droned on about nothing, successfully sending him into the realms of sleep.

And the one thing he had once enjoyed, the fussing and pampering over his wardrobe and etiquette provided by Lord Rupert, no longer held the charm it once did. Long days of heavy traveling in the form of a golden retriever, and seeing how the other side lived, tended to change one's perspective.

He smiled to himself regretfully. Giles had been right, spending time among the people had made him a better king. As Snow White had put it, being a dog had been good for him.

The Little Lamb Villager currently before the throne—most likely one of the ubiquitous Peeps—took his smile as a sign of approval of his petition and nodded firmly. "Thank you for your time, Your Majesty!" He turned and hurried from the chamber. Wendell debated whether to call him back and find out precisely what he had just agreed to, then decided to let it slide. Surely one of his advisors would catch the details as the man left.

Several more petitioners presented their cases before Wendell was able to call a short and much needed break. As soon as the line of supplicants retreated sufficiently, the king heaved a sigh of relief and turned to the man seated beside his throne, at a slightly lower level. "Well, Anthony, now you know what my life consists of these days."

Tony Lewis snapped awake, flinched slightly, and glanced around to see if anyone had noticed he'd been napping. He carefully smoothed the front of his suitcoat and offered Wendell a self-deprecating grin. "Ah, Your Majesty...I wouldn't be you for all the world right now. No offense meant, of course."

"None taken." Wendell eyed him knowingly but made no comment. "What, you mean to say even the offer of young beauties hanging on your every word does not tempt you?" He chuckled as he reminded Tony of his initial offer for a job at the banquet following the defeat of his stepmother, and looked pointedly toward the plate-glass windows lining the throne room, where lines of courtiers watched breathlessly, many fair maidens and ladies among them.

The New Yorker followed his gaze and smiled appreciatively, but shook his head imperceptibly. "It's not that I'd mind the work, Your Majesty, I've learned the value of determination and hard labor. I just don't see the point of all this posturing and false praise. You're not really getting anything done that one of your advisors couldn't do."

Wendell smiled broadly. "I couldn't agree more, Anthony. But tell that to Lord Rupert."

Tony seemed to envision the foppish courtier and winced. "No thanks, Your Majesty."

The king chuckled, and intended to continue the conversation, asking Tony what he would do to alleviate the situation—his former manservant had proved quite sly and clever in the political atmosphere of the Fourth Kingdom. But before Wendell could do so, a vast stir occurred in the watching crowd, and voices were raised in a deep hum of excited conversation. Wendell frowned and raised up on his throne, trying to see what all the ruckus was about, but all he could tell was that everyone was turned toward the entrance. Someone had arrived who had shocked the entire court.

"Anthony...can you see who it is they're gossiping about?" The king gave up all pretense of protocol and rose to his feet, even going so far as to half-climb upon his throne to see better.

"Um...no, I...wait, there's someone coming..." Tony paused, and went completely still. When he spoke next, it was in a hushed whisper, and his face betrayed intense awe. "It's a woman..."

Wendell wondered what woman could possibly have such an effect on the jaded Tony, and then he caught sight of her too, just passing through the towering panels of gold into the throne room—and his breath fled as well.

Every nerve tingled, every inch of his flesh tensed, as he beheld a vision of beauty and elegance, of loveliness and grace, intermixed somehow with a vague sense of unease...foreboding, distrust, even a touch of horror that chilled him to the bone. But these negative emotions were driven into the background. The woman approached, wrapped in silvery-white fur and bone-white silk, a massive train dragging behind her along the crimson carpeting. On either side of her, the crowd parted like waves upon the sea, some even stumbling in their haste to avoid touching her. She was flanked on either side by two horrendous figures, monstrous beasts as ugly and menacing as Trolls but lacking the awful stench, for they were formed fully from carved, living ice.

Wendell tugged nervously on the collar of his crisp, white, royal uniform. It was impossible...but there was no denying who she was. She wore a crown of bluish icicles, and those ice demons clinched it. This was the Ice Queen, ruler of the Eighth Kingdom.

But she had never left her frozen haunts, not in a hundred years...she had remained in her palace, hidden from the world, by all accounts plotting in solitude her conquest of the Kingdoms.

What could she possibly want here?

The Ice Queen glided to a stop before the dais on which his throne was raised. Slowly Wendell returned to the floor, feeling incredibly embarrassed, and cleared his throat. "Y-Your Majesty."

"Ahhhh Wendy, how good it is to finally meet you," she responded at once in a voice equal parts warm humor and cold arrogance. "I've heard so much about you. Your exploits against your stepmother were most impressive. News of them even reached my distant kingdom. I am so sorry I could not attend your coronation...although in retrospect that is a good thing, as I fear I would not have appreciated that dash of Troll dust all your guests received."

Wendell was taken aback on several levels—her casual familiarity, her apparent commiseration over his plight, her approval of his success, even her flash of humor. It was not at all what everyone, from his grandmother on down to his present advisors, had told him to expect from the Ice Queen. What was this? Could her icy heart have finally thawed? "I...I...I thank you, Your Majesty. I too wish you could have attended. But I was under the impression you did not involve yourself in the affairs of the other Kingdoms...although I offered you an invitation out of courtesy in any case. Was I mistaken?"

He could not tear his eyes from the seductive curves of her legs and hips, and the soft, downy mounds of her breasts, like two gentle snowdrifts shifting in a winter wind. He had been warned that she would freeze him in his tracks if ever they met...but he'd had no idea of the manner in which her nature would...harden him...

"You were not mistaken, Your Majesty." The Ice Queen smiled coldly, but there was still the undertones of the coquette in her reply. "I simply made a change in policy. I thought it best, after that dreadful Queen's takeover plot and the near disaster to all the Kingdoms, to bury the ice pick, so to speak. We should not be quarreling amongst ourselves, we should be working together, for the good of our peoples."

The king swallowed hard. He managed to tear his eyes away and flicked them to Tony, who was similarly stupefied, then to his advisors and courtiers. The Lord Chamberlain, his newly-appointed Chancellor, the Mayor of Hamelin—all of them were just as stunned and confused as he. Several looked frightened or worried, but only one seemed ready to denounce the Ice Queen, or to flee—Lord Rupert, who stood near one of the open side doors.

"I...see. That is most refreshing, Your Majesty. So...did you have something specific in mind to formalize relations between our kingdoms?" Wendell tried to hide his growing discomfort and infatuation behind a veneer of cordiality.

The Ice Queen seemed to consider for a long moment. "I don't see why not. I did in fact come here with the intention of...discussing the nature of our relationship." Something about the way she said the word "discussing" did not bode well. "But first...I wanted to offer you a gift."

"A gift?" Wendell blinked. This was even more unexpected. Why would she give him a gift...and what could she offer him? "That...sounds most welcome."

With a flourish the Ice Queen extended a pale, ringed hand and smiled. "Why thank you, Wendell. But before I can give you this gift, you must accept it freely...and also offer another in return."

Wendell's entire body went rigid. His entire being screamed at him not to accept. Yet he could find no definitive reason why he felt this way. It was as if some sixth sense warned him against it. His heart thudded in his chest the way it had that day in the Snow White Memorial Prison when he had been confronted by the Queen. He glanced aside at Tony. The man was fairly frantic with need, and his entire countenance shouted for him to agree. His mouth formed the words "Say yes!" Beyond him, his advisors neither agreed nor disagreed, although all faces bore frowns or grim expressions. Still, it was clear to him they left the final decision in his hands, exactly where it should be.

Except, of course, he had no idea what to do or say.

Shaking visibly, the king clasped his hands behind his back, his knuckles cracking under the strain as he wrung his soft silk gloves. He did not want to say it, but protocol and diplomacy, and the strange sensations the Ice Queen provoked in him, all insisted he say it.

"Very well. I accept your gift. And what is it you wish me to give you?" He began running through a list of possible choices in his mind...

The Ice Queen smiled again, quite broad and very malicious this time. A thin tapering wand of ice slid from her sleeve into her hand, and she extended it to point the star-crowned tip at him. "Why...your Kingdom, of course!"

A blast of ice whistled through the air toward him, bursting from the wand...

Wendell threw up his hands in self-defense, but it was far too ineffectual and far too delayed. Even as he stumbled down the steps from the throne to wrench her wand away, he found his limbs freezing, his chest stiffening, his blood congealing, his breath rasping between his suddenly numb lips. And then his eyesight became clouded, as the bitingly cold frost that covered his body thickened, formed icicles, and grew to form a massive block of ice, perfectly encasing his form in mid-step.

Entombed in a living death, the king could only move his terrified eyes as the Ice Queen cackled like a banshee and pointed again and again with her enchanted wand, striking Tony, the Lord Chamberlain, and every other courtier in the room. Only Lord Rupert escaped, dodging out the door and tumbling facefirst in the soil of the central garden before scrambling to his feet and dashing from view, headed toward the western wing of the palace.

In moments the entire cadre of his advisors, including Tony, had joined Wendell in his icy prison. Only the watching petitioners remained. Slowly the Ice Queen turned to face the crowd, a bitter smile on her blue-violet lips. "Anyone who wishes to share in their fate, step forward at this time. The rest of you have a choice: serve me, or leave this place...now."

No one stirred for a long time, too afraid to move lest they be added to her collection. Then, one by one, the entire crowd departed the room in utter silence, only five remaining to enter her service.

When the room was empty, the Ice Queen gestured to her slaves, and the ice demons joined her new human servants to guard every entrance to the room. Any found attempting to enter would be taken before her and summarily frozen as well. With a confident, arrogant stride the snow witch circled Wendell's frozen form and mounted the dais. She sat upon his throne with deliberate slowness and brandished her wand, rolling it idly between her icy fingers, twirling it as she eyed the room.

"Thank you, Wendell. I find your gift most pleasing. You shall be most rewarded when this game is done. When I sit upon the thrones of every Kingdom...and the lands have joined my icy empire, fallen under the sway of my spell. Then all shall be as it was meant to be from the beginning of days, and Happy Ever After shall be but a dream...unless, of course, you come to see, as I do, how truly happy the cold shroud of death can render you."

Wendell could not move, could not speak, could not breathe, suspended alive by the power of her wicked ensorcellment. But he could still see Tony several feet away, frozen in a half-crouch as he rose from his chair. The man's eyes were equally terrified and haunted and desperate.

But there was nothing either of them could do. The Ice Queen's conquest of the Nine Kingdoms had begun, and no one remained free to stop it, except perhaps Lord Rupert. And Wendell would not trust the fate of a Troll to his supercilious hands.

And one other remained, one who kept hope alive in the king's heart. Virginia. She had been due to meet with him this very day. She could yet arrive through the magic mirror, if it could be activated, and save Wendell from his own folly.

She had saved the Nine Kingdoms once. She could do so again. She had to...

* * *

(A/N: The names I've given the Murrays (Bob and Linda) as well as the other family member mentioned in passing, Justine, are from Sohna's wonderful fic "My Brother's Keeper". At the time I was writing this chapter, I was not feeling very creative, and considering most of my fic takes place in the Kingdoms and I was in a hurry to get to the 'good stuff', I didn't feel it worth my while to spend much time with the Murrays, even down to giving them unique names. Besides, Bob and Linda somehow seem far too fitting, and I very much enjoyed Sohna's hilarious antics with the Murrays at the start of her fic and wanted to reference them. So...I borrowed them. Mea culpa, mea culpa! But this is the only direct shout out to any other fic, so you can read the rest of my story with a clear conscience. ;) R/R!)


	3. Two: The Beginning of the Quest

**Two**: The Beginning of the Quest

Frowning impatiently, Virginia peered up through the whispering leaves and intercrossed branches of the ancient trees at the sun winking down from above. It was a beautiful spring day in Central Park, a day filled with promise and hope. A day she felt free and alive, as if anything and everything were possible.

Not a day she wished to spend cooling her heels in this isolated grove of trees and underbrush, waiting on his Majesty, the esteemed monarch of the Fourth Kingdom, to grace her with his presence.

"What do you suppose could be keeping him?" Virginia muttered as she rearranged the armload of packages she carried. They were presents—a gigantic meat-flavored bone for Prince (which she would first offer jokingly to Wendell), several handsome and expensive suits for her father courtesy of the Murrays, and Wendell's real present, a Walkman with a judicious selection of Earth music from various genres, time periods, and artists. The young king had shown an intense interest in the culture of her world, and Virginia was pleased to oblige him—although she had not realized how much trouble it would be.

Beside her, Wolf too was fidgeting impatiently, his hand scratching instinctively at his temple, although she was not certain of the reason for his nervousness. Did he not wish to remain under cover, unable to view the sky and run free? Was he worried about Wendell too, or did he simply wish they could be in each other's arms again?

"I haven't a clue, my creamy love," he replied, eyes darting about suspiciously, as if he expected some secret danger to pounce upon them unawares. Smirking slightly, he rolled his eyes. "Perhaps the king has dirtied his lovely clothes and had to change."

"None of that, Wolf." Virginia was quite aware there was still no love lost between him and Wendell, despite the pardon given to all the wolves in the Fourth Kingdom. Wolf still saw her stepbrother as an arrogant, presumptuous coward and Wendell saw Wolf as a selfish opportunist and was always on the lookout for any sign that he was using Virginia.

But for her sake the two of them got along and kept quiet about their private distrust of one another. At moments like this, though, it arose, and even a badly-placed joke could cause trouble.

Sighing, she peered around the shadowy glade, along the paths and between the trunks and branches, and then she placed a hand on Wolf's arm. "Are you sure this is the right place?" She had an unswerving belief in his ability to track and scent, and of course they had both been here before, but it was remotely possible they'd made a mistake...

But Wolf nodded firmly, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and drawing her close. "Absolutely, little cupcake. There's no question of it!" He smiled and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

She returned his smile, somehow reassured by his warm voice—he always had such a comforting effect on her. But before she could acknowledge him further or advance any other theories about Wendell's absence, the air around her grew warm, then hot, and began to ripple as if filled by the heat waves of blistering asphalt. This had to be the sign that the portal of the magic mirror was about to open, and she watched with rapt interest, having never seen it before from this side.

The rippling grew more pronounced, and then with a rush of argent light, reality distorted, and the familiar shimmering rectangle appeared, hovering about six inches from the ground. Dimly she could make out a darkened room on the other side, circular and filled by tall, sheeted objects. It was the alcove in her mother's bedroom, where she had finally confronted her after fourteen years of abandonment.

Virginia felt Wolf clutch her arm, and at first she thought he was trying to comfort her, but then she saw it too...a faint silhouette approaching the mirror. By the height and build it seemed to be a man, but it was not tall enough to be either Wendell or her father. A chill ran up her spine. Had some criminal gained access to the mirror and planned to cross over to cause mischief?

Before she could warn Wolf, the unknown man leaped toward the portal. Stumbling back, she shrieked in fright, dropping all of her packages. She heard Wolf snarl, and then there was a stretching surge in the mirror's liquid, a tumbling body, and a flurry of arms and legs as Wolf tackled the man. Grabbing him by his lapels, Wolf wrenched him upright—and froze in place, at the same moment Virginia recognized the high-pitched, frantic voice crying out in fright and desperate warning.

It was Lord Rupert.

"Unhand me, you disreputable cur!" The courtier batted his hands at Wolf's as he struggled to free himself, his expression harried and horrified. "You have no idea what's happened!"

For a moment Wolf rather looked as if he wanted to shake the truth out of the poor man instead of release him, but Virginia intervened. "Wolf, let him go!"

Flinching at the note of command in her voice, he complied, letting Rupert tumble to the earth again, which prompted a cry of indignant annoyance from the fastidious man. Wolf turned to her and scratched self-consciously at his temple. "So sorry, Virginia...a wolfie can't control his instincts sometimes."

She frowned doubtfully at him; that sounded rather like a cop-out. But she had no time to deal with him. She rushed to Lord Rupert, who was groaning and muttering as he brushed dirt and leaves from his uniform jacket, and helped him to his feet. "Lord Rupert, what are you doing here? I thought only Pri—King Wendell was supposed to meet us! What's going on?" Her voice trembled despite her resolve not to lose control, as she recalled Rupert's exclamation. And then she saw his face, as pale as chalk, and she swallowed with difficulty.

Biting his lip, Rupert tried to maintain his composure, but then he quivered and began to wail like a lost child, tears streaking his cheeks as he grasped her sweater. "Oh, Lady Virginia! It's awful, it's dreadful, it's catastrophic! You won't believe what's happened!" He sniffled and looked at her shirt as if he wanted to wipe his nose with it.

Virginia fought the urge to throttle him; perhaps she should have let Wolf shake him into submission after all. Pulling free of him by main force, she grabbed his shoulders and fixed steely eyes upon him. "What...happened...Rupert?"

"It's...it's his Majesty! Your father! The entire court! I'm the only one left..." Seeming newly frightened by this thought, the courtier leaned against her, his knees weakening.

Icy fear gripped Virginia's heart. No. No, they could not be dead. Wrenching Rupert upright, she finally did shake him. "What do you mean? Spit it out, Rupert!"

Running a hand through his hair, the dark-eyed lord gestured shakily with his other hand toward the mirror and the Nine Kingdoms that waited beyond. "They...they've been frozen...ensorcelled...by the Ice Queen! I escaped...I knew I had to find you..." Then, hurriedly, he laid out all the details of the snow enchantress's arrival and the spell that had encased everyone in blocks of ice.

Letting go, Virginia took a long step backwards, eyes flicking from Rupert's pasty visage, to the shimmering portal, to Wolf, who stood in a half-crouch, as if about to transform fully into his animal form and launch with fangs bared into the mirror where an Ice Queen waited. She didn't know whether to hold him back or urge him on, both choices seemed equally worthwhile at this point.

Mind whirling, she latched onto the only fact she'd been given that she could learn anything more about. Reaching out to grab Wolf's shoulder, she waited until he looked her in the eyes, tried to ignore the flare of golden-yellow irises. "Wolf—who is this Ice Queen? What is Rupert talking about?" Behind her she heard the courtier snort huffily at being dismissed, but she kept her attention on Wolf.

His rakish face was pinched with anguish, fear, and loathing, an expression she'd never seen except when he'd spoken of her mother or the Huntsman. "She rules the Eighth Kingdom with an icy thumb, has for a hundred years or more. I have never had the dubious distinction of meeting her, but I have cousins who dwell in the Northern Forests that have, and feel lucky they lived to tell the tale. She hates everyone in all the other Kingdoms with a passion, and seeks to rule them all. It is rumored that she has great magic and can bring the cold of her domain with her wherever she goes." Wolf looked guardedly at Rupert and licked his lips nervously. "It seems the rumors are true."

Virginia felt her stomach twisting in knots. Now she knew more, but somehow it had made things worse.

Before she could ask another question, Rupert was at her side again, wringing his hands in despair. "What are we to do? We have no magic to counter the Ice Queen. She will conquer all the Kingdoms!"

Virginia put a hand to her forehead, feeling the onset of a headache. How could a day that had begun so wonderfully, full of love, have degenerated so rapidly? She had known when she and Wolf returned to New York that Happy Ever After would not last forever, but she hadn't thought it would vanish in only a few months' time. And now she was being asked once again to face danger she barely understood, for people she didn't know but who counted on her to save them, and to use magic she was only somewhat more accepting of than before. Assuming magic could be found.

Her mind sharpened. That was the first step.

"All right," she said briskly, recovering her sense of poise. Clearly she had to take charge here; she understood now why Lord Rupert had not been designated as a regent in case of emergency. She took the courtier by the hand and squeezed it gently. "Here's what we're going to do. First, we have to return to the palace and find out what the situation really is, what we're up against. Then we have to find a way to defeat this Ice Queen. Everyone has a weakness. We just have to learn it and exploit it."

Wolf wrapped his arm around Rupert's shoulders from his other side, nodding firmly. "You would do best to listen to the Lady Virginia, Rupe'. She did save your bacon the last time Wendy was in peril."

Lord Rupert frowned and looked as if he longed to brush Wolf's hand away and any germs it might have deposited on his jacket, but he nodded, straightening up and managing to recover at least a semblance of dignity. "Yes...yes, of course. We must return at once, I don't know what I was thinking." He pulled free of Wolf and led the way toward the mirror.

As the three approached the rippling surface of the portal, Virginia felt her insides quiver in a similar motion. But it was not fear she felt, not really. No, it was excitement, eagerness. Despite the gravity of events and the very real threat to those she cared about, she was somehow looking forward to this, to testing her mettle and proving anew that she had the strength of character and resolve of purpose to act when it truly mattered. To prove her first adventure in the Nine Kingdoms had not been a fluke.

Drawing abreast of the magic mirror, she glanced aside at Rupert and Wolf. The lord's face was a mask of fear; Wolf's eyes were overflowing with devotion and unshakable trust. She tried to smile at him.

"Here we go again..."

* * *

Once again there was a sudden rush of air, the familiar sensation of flying forward at an impossible speed. Hurtling through the darkness, Virginia heard the sound of smashing glass, and beheld an abrupt and blurred vision of mirror frames rushing by in endless succession, whirling faster and faster, each one a doorway that brought her closer to the world where fairy tales were real. Then there was a rush of silver light—and in an instant, she, Lord Rupert, and Wolf emerged from the mirror's liquid into the shadowy alcove within Wendell's castle, the ornate room that reminded her of everything special she had found in the Nine Kingdoms—and the things she hadn't expected to find. The things she had lost.

Virginia shook herself. She could not dwell on her mother's death anymore, that was behind her now—and in any case, there were more pressing concerns. Gazing around at the sheeted mirrors arranged in a circle, she frowned. "Rupert...I thought Wendell was going to lock the mirrors in the dungeon to keep them safe, so no one could ever abuse them."

Rupert, now that he was back in his own world, his accustomed surroundings, seemed to have recovered fully from his breakdown, although he still eyed the darkness around them warily. "Yes, that was his Majesty's intent. But we have not yet finished cataloguing the mirrors or ascertaining the extent of their powers. In any case, it is a good thing the mirrors are still here."

"Why is that?"

"Because, if they were in the dungeon, I could not have activated the Traveling mirror to reach you. They would be locked in a secure cell...and his Majesty would currently have the key around his neck."

Virginia shuddered. "All right...we have to find out what's going on, what the Ice Queen's plans are. How can we do that?"

Lord Rupert looked nonplussed. "I don't know, milady. She has her ice demons patrolling all the corridors. The only reason we haven't been discovered is that I took the liberty of locking the outer door to the bedchamber. We cannot possibly approach the throne room physically."

Biting her lip, she turned to Wolf—only to see him hunching his shoulders forward, extreme discomfort on his face. "Wolf, what's wrong?"

"It's...it's nothing. Just an idea I had."

"Well, what is it? We can use anything at this point!" She tried to keep the desperation from her voice.

Wolf glanced furtively around, then gestured at the sheeted mirrors. "The mirrors, Virginia. I never told you, but...when I was serving the Queen, she had ways of contacting me. Ways to spy on her enemies." A mournful whimper escaped his throat, and he flinched as if expecting her to strike him. "Perhaps one of these mirrors will let us spy on the Ice Queen."

Virginia stared at him in shock—not because she harbored any distrust or anger toward him at serving her mother, but because this was a confirmation of the secrets he had once withheld from her. Blinking, she shook her head. "I never thought of that...but that's not possible, is it? I mean, I thought only she could use them."

A diffident cough attracted her attention, and she turned to see Rupert trying to remain composed and sedate. "That's...not entirely true, Lady Virginia. We have had the mirrors examined by Elven sorcerers, and apparently anyone may use them who knows the proper commands." He looked askance, his voice lowering. "But the commands are not needed...for one of the Queen's own blood."

Virginia's heart thudded in her chest. To have such a legacy bestowed on her so suddenly...a legacy of evil and dark magic, a bond with a house that had plotted to destroy the House of White. She was heir to the tradition, and even if she had not her mother's broken mind or the vengeful heart of Snow White's stepmother, still...to be connected to that heritage made her want to scream.

Digging her nails into her palms, she finally nodded in acceptance. Their need was great; she would have to accept and embrace this. "Fine. But...which one is it?"

Rupert crossed to the table in the center of the room, where a large, leather-bound book lay, locked by brass bindings. Unhooking the clasp, he opened it and began leafing through the pages. "We've managed to narrow the possibilities down to two...we have already identified the Lethe mirror..." He paused to examine a passage of elegant calligraphy and a diagram of the room, then pulled the sheet off a mirror with a heavy maple frame carved to resemble intertwined snakes. "This one."

Virginia glanced at it and looked away. That was the mirror whose surface had revealed her mother had been choking her.

"And this is the Mirror of Mnemosyne." Rupert uncovered a tall, narrow mirror of oak, its frame fashioned into leafy vines. At her blank look, he added, "Memory, milady." He glanced behind her. "And of course you already know the Traveling mirror."

She turned and faced the golden frame that had almost become an old friend, etched with Dwarven runes and adorned by the concentric, wheel-like ornaments. The argent light of the mirror's rippling glass suffused the air like mist shining in moonlight, and she could still see the image of Central Park. Absently she reached out and turned the catch, plunging the room back into dim obscurity. Virginia met her reflection's gaze, not liking what she saw there, and then looked at the two remaining mirrors.

Pulling away a velvet sheet, she uncovered a diamond-shaped mirror of finest silver, and recoiled. This was the mirror that had altered reality, kept her from realizing she was being throttled. She touched her throat shakily...

_"Mirror, mirror on the wall..."_

_"What...are you...doing to me...?"_

She wrenched her thoughts away. "It has to be this one." The other mirror, when bared to the light, was massive, an oval of wrought-iron set upon a stone pedestal chiseled into the shape of grotesque demonic statues. The entire mirror was dyed a deep forest green—and its frame enclosed no reflections, only a hollow, impenetrable blackness.

Virginia felt Wolf step up beside her and take her hand, his warm, solid body pressing close as he leaned against her. He murmured in her ear how much he loved her and how he would always be there for her, and she blushed softly, nodding in acknowledgment. Then, after a weak smile of encouragement from Rupert, she took a shuddering breath.

She had no idea what to say, and according to Rupert it wouldn't matter because she was the Queen's daughter, but still she felt it had to be done with a certain decorum and respect. "O Magic Mirror, whose sight is clear and vast, show to me the Ice Queen, reveal to me her plans."

A strange crackling sound, like the scraping of sandpaper, made Virginia jump. The sound built to a crunching of glass. Behind the darkness of the mirror, a soft glow appeared, and the glass became razed with countless cracks. Then the surface moved, becoming liquid, and the cracks smoothed away.

Virginia's breath quickened as an image appeared in the mirror...

* * *

Turning away from a rapt contemplation of Wendell's frightened face, tinted blue by the cold of the enchanted ice, the Ice Queen brought her malicious grin to bear on the pale servant cowering before the throne. "Yes, slave?"

Holding out a trembling hand, the man whimpered, "H-here is what you r-requested, Y-your Majesty...f-from the R-royal Study." In his fingers he clutched a sheaf of parchment, rolled up and bound by a silken ribbon. Tucked into the ribbon was a feather quill.

"Excellent...you have earned another day of freedom. You are dismissed." With a pointed glance at the frozen courtiers, the ermine-cloaked witch plucked the package from the servant's hand and untied the ribbon, letting her gaze fall to examine the contents. Eyes bulging, the servant fled.

A soft murmur of delight escaped the Ice Queen's frigid lips, and then she smiled. "Yes...perfect. Exactly what I needed..." Reaching into the bundle of parchment, she removed a large, golden signet ring, surmounted by a crimson ruby. In the center of the jewel was carved the seal of the House of White, an embossed apple tree above a stream, its arching limbs supporting a crown.

Without hesitation she slipped it on the index finger of her right hand—being a man's ring, it was far too large for her ring finger. She caressed it a moment, then finished unrolling the parchment to reveal a capped inkwell. Then she turned back to the hapless king.

"Well, well, well...do you have any idea what this is I have in my hand, Your Majesty?" The Ice Queen pursed her lips and raised one bleached eyebrow quizzically, as if she actually expected Wendell to answer. After a brief pause, she smirked. "Of course you don't...I hope you don't mind if I explain it to you."

Rising from the throne, she skirted a motionless ice demon until she stood directly before the king. One bony hand traced lazily across the surface of the block where one of Wendell's hands was upraised. "This is some of your parchment, Wendell...that used for your personal missives, stamped with your seal. Your stationery, as it were." She chuckled. "No one else is allowed to use it except for you..."

Somehow, behind the ice, Wendell's eyes widened.

"Due to your...unforeseen incapacity, I rather thought a notice to the other monarchs of the Kingdoms was in order. But I would never wish the Fourth Kingdom to languish in limbo, or for the other Kingdoms to know of this. It quite behooves me to...fill the vacancy for the time being. And of course the other rulers must be apprised of this fact."

Ice-blue eyes narrowed, flashing with mockery. "A fact which they will not ascertain, however, until they arrive here...to investigate for themselves."

The Ice Queen chuckled again, like the crunch of a foot through the crust of new-fallen snow. She trailed the feather of the quill up and down the parchment, although her eyes never left the king's countenance. "Yes...you know what I intend, I can see it in your eyes. You always were a smart lad...your stepmother never saw it, but I knew what you were capable of.

"I will send letters to each of them...Cinderella, Red Riding Hood III, the Naked Emperor's Great-Grandson, Olaf the Elf King, Alberich the Dwarf King...even that idiotic new Troll King—what was his name? Burly. They will all come here. My letters will ensure they will not refuse. And they will be sealed with your signet ring. Unquestionably from you." The witch made a moue. "How unfortunate that when they arrive...they will find me instead." She brandished the quill and turned her narrow back on him.

Wendell's face was a mask of despair. It looked as if his shoulders would have slumped, had they been free to move.

Abruptly the Ice Queen straightened, stiff with outrage, as she whirled back to face the room. "What is this? We are not alone...someone is watching me!" Jaw trembling and quivering, eyes flashing with the dagger-like blades of an ice storm, the enchantress stabbed a finger toward one doorway, then another. Her voice rose to a ringing shout as she commanded the ice demons scattered about as sentinels. "Find them! Bring them to me alive! They are somewhere in this palace...and they have access to a magic mirror..."

Emotionlessly, imperturbably, the monstrous beasts filed out, scattering through both wings of the castle. As she watched them go, the Ice Queen turned back, her cold gaze piercing the walls, reaching out over the distance, seeking the eyes that spied upon her with uncanny accuracy...

* * *

Recoiling in horror, Virginia stepped back from the Spying mirror, throat locked so that she could barely breathe, mouth working silently as she strove to tear her eyes away from the visage of the Ice Queen. Frigid, lifeless, possessed by biting fury and contempt, the witch's face approached, drawing ever closer, filling the mirror's frame until nothing else could be seen.

Virginia reacted instinctively, lifting a hand to block her face and ward away those baleful eyes. As her hand waved across the glass, the image vanished, leaving the mirror quiescent.

Slowly she recovered her equilibrium, breathing more normally as she leaned against Wolf, shuddering from the experience. When she was able to look around the alcove again, she discovered Rupert had pulled the curtain across the doorway into the bedroom, giving them privacy and some meager protection. Turning back, he interlaced his fingers as if demonstrating macramé. "Oh, what a heinous plot! And it will work, I assure you. Especially now, so soon after the Queen's attempt...no one will suspect a thing. We must find a way to defeat the Ice Queen's magic!"

Wolf, who was squeezing Virginia's hand reassuringly, inclined his head toward the final mirror. "It will only be a matter of time before her demons find us, my love. If there is any talisman that can aid us, it seems only this mirror can give us hope of finding it."

Virginia wanted to deny the validity of his words, but even had there been time for another option, she was afraid she had no choice. So, nerving herself, she stepped up to the silver frame, took a deep breath, and said, "Mirror, speak to me! I am your mistress's daughter, I demand you tell me what I seek to know!"

The diamond-shaped expanse of glass rippled, and then shapes and colors began to swirl hypnotically behind its surface. Shapes and colors and nothing else. Then, suddenly, a face formed in the mercury-like liquid, startling her. It was male, with narrow, close-set eyes, high arrogant cheekbones, a wide, bulbous nose, and thick fleshy lips. It was a sly face, a cruel face, an untrustworthy face. It made Virginia's flesh crawl.

"Daughter of my mistress," the mirror murmured in a dry, emotionless tone, its lips shaping to the words like ripples in water. "How fortunate that at last we meet. And you have chosen wisely to approach me...for I am a Seeking mirror."

The room began to grow hazy and dark before her eyes, and she put a hand to her forehead weakly. "I...see. And what can you seek for me?"

"Anything, milady." The mirror sounded quite smug. "I can track down any individual, any place, any object. I can seek out the will of a person and make it your own. I can seek out knowledge and divine secrets concealed from you, and place them in your possession. With me, you can rule the world."

Dusty, sibilant, rising and falling in cadent rhythm, the mirror's voice echoed in her mind...insistent, persuasive, enthralling. A wave of lassitude washed over her, and a small smile formed as she felt the beginning rush of power at all these possibilities laid before her. "Such modesty...in that case, I wish to know: how may I defeat the Ice Queen? What magic can break her spells?"

The Seeking mirror pursed its lips, and the colors darted faster within its liquid before it smiled knowingly. "Magic indeed does the Witch of Winter possess, enchantments great and power vast, but know this well: for all her arrogance and certainty of success, the ice from out her wand remains but ice at last."

Beside Virginia, sounding as if he spoke from a long way off, came Wolf's irritated voice. "Enough with the riddles already! Just tell us what we need to know."

A petulant expression appeared on the mirror's face, but it complied. "The answer you seek lies in the elements of life. What is ice's bane, its foe and adversary, from the beginning of days?"

Rupert muttered behind Virginia. "Fire, of course. But no ordinary fire will melt her spell!"

"Exactly so." The mirror's eyes bored into Virginia's. "One fire alone holds the key. The fire of dragons."

Virginia inhaled sharply, fear flooding her heart instinctively. Dragons? Only one of those vicious, dangerous beasts could save the Nine Kingdoms? Her mind raced as her voice failed her. Rupert too remained stunned, but Wolf managed to snarl and scratch furiously at his temple. "Impossible! All the dragons are extinct, everyone knows that!"

"Do they indeed?" The Seeking mirror took on a haughty demeanor. "It is true many have died, and the species may no longer roam the lands. But with the power of my sight, I have rent the veil of history's shroud, and can declare: at least one dragon remains alive. If any can help you in your quest, it is he."

Despite the fearsome prospect of confronting a dragon, hope surged in Virginia. Magic to fight magic. And from all the fairy tales she had ever read, dragons had always been described as invincible, incredibly strong, more powerful than any but the greatest of wizards. Hurriedly she clutched the mirror's silver frame, ignoring the sudden rush of almost electrical energy crackling in her fingers. "Where? Where is he?"

A deep, contented chuckle broke the silence. "How like your mother you are, milady..."

Before she could fully wrap her mind around this horrible claim, or make her demand again, the mirror continued. "Within the boundaries of an enchanted realm he lies, imprisoned by magic and his own heart. Within the Sixth Kingdom, he dwells."

Exclamations of protest burst at once from both Rupert and Wolf, but Virginia had no idea why this was an undesired answer, and in any case she was now beyond such petty complaints. The mirror's swirling magic called to her, stronger than the addiction of the Troll King's magic shoes, stronger than anything she had ever felt before. And the mirror seemed to sense the growing bond between them, for its expression turned contented and pleased.

"But, milady, such matters should be far beyond your concerns. What need have you of the help of others? The power of magic is yours, as it was your mother's. I can teach it to you, guide you in its paths, so that you may defeat the Ice Queen yourself. So many possibilities lie before you, so many secrets are yours to claim and grasp, so many fears are yours to exploit. You have yet to fully embrace your destiny, but my vision sees all, and knows where your potential lies. Join me. Together we can accomplish what your mother could not. We shall be partners, and nothing shall stand in our way. The Nine Kingdoms shall be ours to rule and control, as was foreordained..."

Virginia's eyes were so heavy, very nearly closed, her will sapped, her mind dulled by the whispered words. She could feel the magic surging in her hands, and even more intoxicating was the rising power deep within her heart and soul, uncurling and flaring like a flame being fueled and stoked with rich logs of pine, blazing ever higher. It all sounded so wondrous...glory and power, respect and prestige...things she had desired all her life, things denied her by a worthless, empty existence. And she was wise, she was caring, she could properly rule the Kingdoms the way her mother could not...

She opened her mouth to assent, her fingers clutching tighter—and abruptly she felt herself jerked away by unseen hands, and as the contact between her and the metallic frame broke, it was like being struck across the face. She gasped for air, as if breaching the surface of a winter lake, and stepped back involuntarily, confused and somehow overwhelmed with loss as the magic withdrew. The hands tugged her back, but all she could focus on was the Seeking mirror, its face contorted with rage and longing as it tumbled back from her...falling in slow motion toward the floor...

"Virginia! Virginia!" It was Wolf's voice, and his hands upon her shoulders, wrenching her away and whirling her around to face him. He shook her firmly, eyes bulging in fear and intense worry, and she could hear him whimper softly.

"Wolf...Wolf...?" Her own voice sounded distant, but as the endless seconds passed, she could feel herself returning from wherever she had been, and with it came a sense of revulsion and horror that made her shudder uncontrollably. She collapsed in his arms, the sheer magnitude of what she had just come close to doing washing over her. "What...what did I do? How could I have listened...?"

"Could someone, perchance, help me?" Rupert's strangled voice snatched her attention, and she turned to see the lord struggling on the floor, supporting the massive frame of the mirror where it had tipped over when Wolf had pulled it and Virginia apart.

Wolf hastened to his side, but even as he helped the courtier lift the mirror upright again, he muttered under his breath. "Why didn't you just let it fall?"

"I didn't want seven years' bad luck, that's why!" Rupert snapped indignantly. "Besides, it could still be useful, and Wendell alone should decide its fate."

Virginia was only half-listening. The mirror was placid now, quiet and colorless, its glass unmarred. Only a faint silvery sheen attested to its magic, but she could still feel the power it had held over her, the siren's call that had nearly chained her will and made her its slave. She stared down at her hands as if they belonged to someone else, even as she recognized the frightening similarity she bore to her mother in that moment. The temptation...the need to be important and respected...and that unknown power. They had all nearly consumed her...

She began to weep softly, and Wolf was back at her side in an instant. "Are you all right, my love? I tried to tear you away sooner, I hope I was not too late! Oh, if something has happened to our cub I will never forgive myself..." He began to gnash his teeth and tear at his hair.

"N-no...no, I'm all right..." She swallowed hard. "The baby's fine, you saved me, Wolf..."

Virginia embraced him tightly again, kissing his cheek and rubbing her hands along the small of his back. She could feel the tension begin to ease from his body, and with it she lost her own trepidation and felt safe again. His arms always made her feel safe. He was her haven, her protector, her lover, her friend...the other half of her soul.

She was just on the point of kissing him when a sudden crash made her flinch and turn hurriedly to face the hallway. Somewhere beyond the room, a door had been smashed to pieces!

"The demons come!" Rupert cried, eyes darting frantically around the alcove as if he expected them to emerge from the very walls. "You must escape now, Lady Virginia, if you are to have any chance at success!"

He was propelling her into the bedroom before she could protest, but Wolf's objections were not so silent. "Don't handle Virginia like that, she's in a very delicate condition! And we can't rush off on a quest now. Certainly not to the Sixth Kingdom!"

Rupert looked as if he wanted to punch Wolf, but somehow managed to regain control, which Virginia thought was a good choice on his part. "Stop dithering, there's no time for that! Do you wish your love to be captured by the Ice Queen? Help me with these drapes, they're the only way out now." The lord hurried to the vast canopied bed and began tugging at the crimson bedcurtains.

Galvanized into action, Wolf rushed to join him, ripping the silk from the rings and aiding in tearing it to shreds. Together he and Rupert began tying the strips together to form a long, crude rope. Virginia watched in stunned bemusement, knowing on one level what they were doing but on another level, not knowing at all. Another crash resounded in the hallway outside the bedroom, then another, each closer than the last. The searchers were drawing nearer.

Finally the rope was finished, and the two men dragged it back into the alcove, where Wolf pushed open the mullioned doors of the balcony and stepped out into the warm sunlight. He turned to Rupert as the lord joined him. "This is impossible and you know it, Rupe'. We cannot possibly go to the Sixth Kingdom, there are too many dangers there and along the way—"

Rupert interrupted him by twisting a ring from his finger and thrusting it into his hand. "Nevermind that! Here, take my signet ring. It should give you all the help you need if you face any interference in your journey."

Virginia, whose mind had been careening between hazy confusion and desperate hope, finally latched onto what Rupert was saying and clutched his arm. "Wait, what about you?"

The gentle man stared at her for a moment, clearly still frightened, but he clenched his jaw and shook his head. "Someone must stay behind and divert the Ice Queen. I would only be a hindrance to you, but here I can pretend to be the one who used the mirror. Perhaps I can even act as a spy in the enemy camp. If not...then I will be freed with the others when you return." Squaring his shoulders bravely, he quickly turned and tied the end of the rope tightly around the balustrade, squeezed Virginia's wrist, and darted back into the bedroom, drawing the curtain across the alcove once more.

She gazed after him, then exchanged a glance with Wolf. Perhaps she had been wrong about Rupert.

As the two stood on the balcony, they heard the splintering of the door into the bedroom, the roars of monstrous beasts, and the shrill cries of the lord. Biting her lip, she grabbed Wolf's arm. "Go, Wolf, now!"

He looked as if he were about to argue with her; from the overprotective gleam in his eyes, it appeared he wished to bear her in his arms and carry her down the rope himself to keep her from harm, but that was of course impossible. She understood his concern, and was no more sanguine than he about her climbing the sheer face of the palace wall when eight months pregnant, but there was no other way out.

Virginia shoved him against the railing, and finally Wolf complied, clambering over the smooth marble and beginning a rapid but agile rappelling from one ledge to another down the ornate, elaborately carved facade of the castle. As quickly as she dared, Virginia followed, trying to ignore the clamminess of her palms, the dizziness of her head, and the queasiness of her stomach.

She glanced down only once. Although the distance was not great (they were only halfway up the palace), and there was a gently sloping roof a story up from the ground to land upon, Virginia still averted her eyes after only a moment. Silently she prayed for herself and her unborn child as she gripped the cloth, suddenly all too aware of its slickness.

Rupert had sacrificed himself for them, and now everyone was counting on her and Wolf to find the magic to wield that would save them all. But, assuming they made it safely to the ground and away from the palace, there was only one problem.

She had not the slightest idea how she would find the dragon and convince him to help, let alone succeed in time.


	4. Three: Into the Forest

**Three**: Into the Forest

Drawing a shuddering breath, Wolf felt a strange mixture of relief and uncertainty as he guided Virginia carefully under the sheltering boughs of the Disenchanted Forest.

Shadows lay deep upon the winding, narrow pathway, cast by the shifting leaves and branches of the canopy high above. Squirrels and shrews darted amongst the underbrush, and the wind whined and moaned eerily through the looming trunks, but otherwise all was peaceful, still, and unthreatening.

A welcome change from the danger they had just fled...yet he could not completely banish the fear and distrust he held for this forest even now. The Huntsman might be dead, but the forest still contained deadly magic and sinister creatures concealed just out of sight—or even in plain sight—within the seemingly innocent woods.

Wolf scratched absently at his temple. His aunt had tried to wean him of that habit as he was growing up, to no avail. It seemed as indelible a part of him as his tail, as if in some obscure sense he needed it to feel at peace with himself. Huff-puff. How very odd.

Beside him Virginia shivered a little and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. He should have been more insistent that she bring a coat or at least a thicker sweater, but she had been positive it would be warm enough here, and that in any case she would stay in the well-heated castle. And he had to grudgingly concede that point. Neither of them had expected this sudden jaunt into the forest.

He glanced back over his shoulder to where the sunny fields of new spring grass were still faintly visible between the trees, endless rolling hills surrounding the narrow, rutted road they had followed. Just within the edge of the forest he could make out the shape of the lone wagon, its shafts resting at an angle on the ground where Wolf had left them after releasing the sway-backed dapple-gray gelding that had been pulling it.

Wolf sighed. He envied that horse. It did not have to worry about evil Ice Queens, dangerous spells, or long journeys that threatened the lives of its children.

And that was not all he had to worry about either. Even once he and Virginia had finished descending the castle wall and fled the gardens of the Royal Estate, even once he had led her down the winding alleys and lanes of the Fourth Kingdom's capital city to a deserted innyard and commandeered the unattended wagon, even once he had concealed her beneath the straw and cloth and driven the vehicle at a nerve-wrackingly slow pace out the gates—even after all of this, he had not felt safe. For although they had escaped the Ice Queen, they could not escape the memory of the Seeking mirror.

Running a hand through his hair, Wolf led Virginia along the moss-carpeted road, following its twists and turns until the sunlight faded and left them in layers of shadow and darkness. The entire time he kept his eyes on her more than he did the road ahead, trying to read her expression and see if she was still suffering any lingering side-effects. Silently he cursed himself for making the suggestion of consulting the mirrors. He had spoken without thinking, like a pup still in the den, when he should have known that anything the Queen had possessed would be far worse than Troll magic.

Finally, after he had brought Virginia far enough into the woods that he felt it safe enough to talk, he came to a halt and turned to face her, resting his hands on her shoulders. "Virginia, sweetheart, are you all right?"

For a moment she seemed uncertain whether to lash out at him or be grateful for his concern. "I'm fine, Wolf," she said softly at last, reaching up to caress his arm. "Just a little stressed and out of breath. That wasn't exactly a walk in the park."

"I know, and it was my fault." He pulled her into his embrace, gripping the rucksack she wore on her back, but she pulled away, giving him a look that combined disappointment and frustration.

"No, Wolf, I'm the one who chose to use the mirrors. And neither of us could know I'd be so...affected." She put a hand to her head and rubbed it. "I had no idea I was so much like my mother."

Wolf didn't quite know what to say to that, so instead he simply gave her hand a gentle squeeze and shouldered his own pack. His Virginia was so sensitive, especially about her mother, and he had no desire to upset her in her condition. In any case, the Queen was the last thing he wanted to think about, and now was not the time to argue about who was to blame.

Sniffing the air cautiously, he gazed about their verdant surroundings, inhaling every fragrance and scent, sorting and labeling them even as his instincts constantly cried out to him to either roll in one or dash far away from another. Then he looked back at Virginia in what he hoped was an encouraging manner. "Well, my love, at least you are free of it, and we can now endeavor to find this dragon that can help Wendy and Tony."

He was about to continue on when he noticed the indignant and perplexed look on her face. "Um...did I say something wrong, Virginia?"

"Yeah." She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Back at the palace you seemed pretty negative about this whole quest. In fact I'd say you were frightened. Has something happened to change your mind that I don't know about?"

Sharp girl. She always had been, but now that trait was not particularly desirable at the moment. Wolf shrugged as nonchalantly as he could, smiling disarmingly. "Oh, nothing much. It's just that the country we must pass through is not very safe, especially for you. A great deal of forest and mountains, several rivers..."

Virginia cut him off. "Wolf. I know you're hiding something from me. And you promised you'd never do that anymore. What is it?"

Wolf whimpered. He _had_ promised that. And he could never resist her when she spoke in that tone of voice. But he didn't want to upset her...

He sighed. "Well...the thing of it is, Virginia, the Sixth Kingdom is...ensorcelled."

She blinked, then took a step back. "What do you mean?"

Taking her arm, he began to lead her slowly and steadily along the road, deeper into the forest, as he gathered his thoughts and prepared to explain the unique history of the Sixth Kingdom. "About eighty or so years ago, the king and queen who ruled that kingdom had a baby daughter. She was their first child, and so beautiful even as a baby that her birth was quite an affair. They invited dignitaries and rulers from all over the Kingdoms to her christening, but a careless servant neglected to send an invitation to one of the most powerful fairies in the land. As everyone knows, fairies love to cause mischief, and this slight was enough to affront her. So—"

"Wait, let me guess." Virginia held up a hand to forestall him. "She put a curse on the princess, saying that when she was sixteen she would prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and die. Only a good fairy came along and changed the curse so she would sleep instead."

Wolf blinked and leaned back away from her, eyes darting over her face. "How did you know that?" Then he caught himself and answered his own question. "That was in one of those stories in your world, wasn't it? By that man...what was his name, Grimm?"

Sometime after their return to the Tenth Kingdom, Virginia had informed him about various aspects of their adventure, including the words she and Tony had found etched into the beam in the cell in Wendell's dungeon, and their import.

She nodded. "That's right. So why hasn't the spell been broken? I thought all it needed was for a prince who loved her to kiss her awake."

A rueful chuckle met her innocent reply. Apparently this Grimm fellow had not gotten everything right. "It is not that simple, my creamy darling. Remember, the original curse was extremely powerful—so powerful that no wizard could undo it, and the fairy who cast it could not remove it even if she wished to. It was one of those one-time castings. And it has a set time limit...but no one knows how long that is. Until it has run its course, no one can successfully break it. All that is known is that more than just a kiss is needed. The prince who can restore the Sixth Kingdom must possess a unique talent, a gift that no other has which can win the way through to Queen Rapunzel's castle, where the Sleeping Beauty lies."

Virginia appeared stunned on several levels. Her mouth worked for several moments, and then she asked, "What is Rapunzel doing there? And what do you mean, win the way through?"

Wolf looked away uncomfortably. This was the part he had not wished to tell her. "Oh, I forgot to mention that. The Lady Rapunzel is Sleeping Beauty's mother. As to what I meant...the spell has made all within the kingdom sleep...and a massive growth of thorns and brambles has engulfed the land, from the border all the way to the castle. No one can get in or out without great difficulty. And...most who enter never return, because the magic will not let them...or they too have fallen asleep."

Eyes wide, Virginia bit her lip and looked away as well, keeping her gaze on the ground. For some time they walked on in silence, picking their way over upthrust roots and along deep ruts strewn by the rotted leaves of last autumn. When at last Virginia glanced his way again, there was a mixture of fear and determination in her expression. "Well then...we'd better hope that we can find that dragon...and he can fly us free of the curse."

That was a slim hope at best, but it was better than anything Wolf could think of. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and cradled her close, kissing her cheek softly. "There's the spirit, my love."

He did not volunteer the other source of extreme danger—what would happen to any wolf who set foot within the Second Kingdom...through which they must pass to reach their destination. Perhaps they would be lucky. He hoped so. But it was no use worrying until the time came.

Wolf scratched at his temple yet again. Destiny had guided them once...but what were the chances it would do so again?

For the rest of that day they traveled onward, weaving their way between low-hanging branches and leafy underbrush, moving from one ray of sun lancing down from above to another. The road forked now and then, but every diverging path was even narrower, darker, and fainter, less traveled. Wolf made sure to avoid them; this time there was no Huntsman pursuing them, so they could take the infinitely safer route. But even so, he watched their every step, keeping Virginia away from the edges of the road. You could never be too careful, especially in the Disenchanted Forest.

At midday he fished inside their packs for the provisions he had hurriedly purchased and stowed away back in the town—dark brown peasant bread, still warm, a small wicker basket of assorted berries and nuts, dried roast beef, and a block of pungent cheese. He had bought no drink, as they could sample the streams and ponds within the forest safely.

They ate as they walked, and despite his unflagging and ever-present hunger, he restrained himself, holding back a large portion of the meal for later; this would be a long journey.

Still, Virginia seemed satisfied and that was enough for him. He did notice a quirky smile on her face as she consumed some of the roast beef.

"And what, may I ask, is the reason for your amusement?" He winked.

"Oh...I was just wondering if it was a good or bad thing that there was no bacon this time." Virginia smirked.

Wolf chuckled in appreciation. A little joke like that was a good sign. It meant she was regaining her pluck and humor after that brush with evil, and was no worse the wear for it. Something that filled him with such joy he simply could not resist laughing aloud. He followed up with heavy panting and a lolling tongue, an exaggerated imitation of his own out-of-control lust for food. Or was it exaggerated? It didn't matter; Virginia loved him anyway.

"Oh don't worry, Virginia, your wolfie will be all nice and well-behaved for you." He curled his hands in front of his chest and posed like a begging puppy, giving her the pleading look he knew she adored. Oh, how he loved her...loved her more than he had ever thought possible!

Virginia swatted his arm playfully. "Don't be so sure good behavior is what I want..." She arched an eyebrow suggestively.

Once he would never have expected such a response from her, but she had relaxed over time, become at ease with him, but more importantly with herself. Sighing contentedly, he whispered in her ear. "That will have to wait till later, my love. We have a very long way to go still, and only so much time to do it."

She furrowed her brow, sobered by this fact, but he fed her a hard-boiled egg to take her mind off it.

By nightfall they had made it one-third of the way across the forest, by Wolf's estimation, and he declared it time to make a small camp on the banks of a crystal-clear spring. Virginia bore a leather waterskin to the pool and filled it as he fetched enough twigs to build a fire, which he lit with a piece of flint. By the time Virginia had returned, he had a nice blaze going.

Wolf leaned back against the trunk of a tree and sighed contentedly. Around him the forest was quiet, a soft silence that spoke of many balmy nights ahead. As he listened to the breeze rustling the leaves and the rippling of the spring, he felt at peace despite the dangers that lay ahead. It was just him and Virginia, alone together, and every moment with her was precious to him.

Across the crackling fire, Virginia smiled gently, but her eyes were not upon him. Instead she was looking around her, staring off into the foliage and inhaling the woodsy fragrances. When she saw him looking at her, she chuckled. "I don't see nothing anymore, Wolf...and it's all because of you."

His heart skipped a beat. "That's wonderful! And what does my quirky girl see?"

She grinned and looked around once again. "I see...the marks of the woodpecker...the den of the badger...crawdad holes...the nest of the cardinal..." Half-rising, she slid around the fire to his side and wrapped her arms around him. "And a handsome wolf who needs his mate." She kissed him softly.

"How perceptive of you," Wolf commented innocently.

For the next several minutes it was all they could do to breathe, let alone speak. But at last Virginia broke the final sweet, passionate kiss and laid her head on his chest. Wolf was stroking her hair with his eyes closed and had nearly fallen asleep when she asked him a serious question that made his eyes pop open. "Wolf...do you really think we can convince the dragon to help us?"

Knitting his brows, he gazed down at her face, searching for words of comfort to offer and failing to find them—mostly because they did not exist, for he too doubted whether their quest could succeed. Something of this must have come through in his expression, or his uncertain breathing, for Virginia rolled over to get a better look at him, blue eyes narrowed worriedly. "Wolf...?"

"What is it, my creamy darling?" he finally managed to reply, rather tremulously.

Virginia frowned deeply, jabbing him in the side. "You didn't answer my question."

Wolf whimpered, and not just from the pain. He hated it when honesty caused him to upset his Virginia, but he had no choice. "Well...I didn't answer you because...there really isn't an answer. Dragons are very unpredictable creatures, but one thing you can be certain of, this dragon is very unlikely to be eager to assist us. At the very best, dragons want nothing to do with the rest of the Kingdoms."

The expected furrows appeared on his beloved mate's brow, furrows Wolf had memorized by now and could trace out with his eyes closed. "But why? What makes dragons hate everyone? What happened to them?"

Sighing, Wolf sat up again, leaning against a fallen log. Clasping his hands, he looked at Virginia from beneath his eyebrows, his face angled toward the loamy earth. There was no way to tell this story without laying blame where it belonged. "They were hunted down and killed...by humans, mostly, but the Trolls and Elves had a hand in it too. And it was because of a terrible tragedy, almost two hundred years ago, that one of their number caused."

Virginia's eyes were wide and round. "What did the dragon do?" In her eyes he could see reflected inner visions of fields and farms and people set aflame by dragon breath and other equally awful atrocities.

"No one knows exactly what happened, it was so long ago, and so many versions of the story have been passed down...but most of them agree that a group of Dwarves was mining deep in the roots of Dragon Mountain when they stumbled on the lair of a male dragon. You remember what the Librarian told you about male dragons?" Wolf had been told of the parts of their adventure he had missed after Kissing Town during the long trek out of the Deadly Swamp.

She concentrated. "He said they were addicted to quicksilver...which is used to make magic mirrors."

"Exactly. So he wasn't eager to have Dwarves coming in and stealing his quicksilver. But this particular dragon, I'm afraid, hated Dwarves with a vengeance. Not only did they infringe on his territory, but he was jealous of how much attention they received because of their skills, and that they were always good guys in the stories while dragons got cast as the bad guys. So he was none too happy at their intrusion...and he was the sort to flame first and ask questions later...which is what he did."

Virginia was digging her fingernails into Wolf's leg, but he ignored the pain. "He killed them?"

"Oh, yes. And that's what started all the trouble...because they were not just any Dwarves. They were the Seven Dwarves...Snow White's adopted family."

Her expression became stricken, and Wolf instinctively reached out to take her hand and squeeze it comfortingly. He knew how strong a bond his Virginia had with Snow White, though he was not sure why. One meeting, however meaningful, could not account for it...could it?

With tears in her eyes, Virginia looked up at him. "So that's why the cottage was lost and deserted for so long."

He nodded. "As you can imagine, there was quite the uproar in the Kingdoms, especially here in the Fourth. National heroes had been murdered, and Queen Snow White declared a day of mourning. Then the Council of the Nine Kingdoms met. Many were all for gathering the armies and wiping out the dragons altogether. But amazingly, Snow White herself argued for a gentler approach. She sent a man with a missive to the male dragon, explaining the situation and kindly asking him to remove himself voluntarily from the Kingdoms."

"I take it the dragon didn't go." Virginia's voice was flat.

Wolf shook his head sadly. "No, he didn't. He considered the order very offensive, especially since it was his territory that had been trespassed on. And the servant who brought the letter was very insolent. So, the dragon killed him as well...and then he began a rampage through the lands, hunting down Dwarves to drive them once and for all from his ancestral home...and the men of the Fourth Kingdom, for daring to call for his departure."

Virginia gasped. "But...but how did they stop him, then?"

The shadows lay long and dark over the campsite, and thanks to the canopy the only light came from their small fire. Wolf tried to avoid looking too closely at the underbrush and leafy limbs, where all sorts of sinister sprites and mischievous fairies could be hiding.

"Knights were gathered, from all over the Kingdoms, and were sent to dispatch him. It took a very long time, and by the time it was over, most of the warriors in the lands were dead. The Dwarves were furious, and so were Snow White's advisors...so this time, when a missive was sent, it went directly to the Dragon Queen, demanding that all dragons vacate Dragon Mountain."

Virginia swallowed hard. "What did she do?"

Wolf steepled his hands before his mouth. "She complied."

"What?" The startled cry was loud enough to disturb whatever forest creatures were nestled under the rocks and bushes, sending them into flight. Virginia looked around sheepishly and then said, more quietly, "How could she do that?"

"What choice did she have?" Wolf shrugged uncomfortably; he did not like what had been done to the dragons any more than she did. "Sure, all the dragons could have banded together and stood up to the Kingdoms, but what would be the point? They were already hated for not doing anything to stop the massacres, and fighting back would only aggravate matters. And to a point, she could not blame people for being afraid and angry. She decided it would be better to appear conciliatory and cooperative, and perhaps this would soften people's hearts toward them. Unfortunately, she was wrong."

Virginia remained perfectly still for some time, and then she sighed, seeming deflated. "That's right...you said they were hunted."

Reaching out to wrap his arm around her, he drew her into his embrace again. She snuggled into his chest, and he could feel her trembling as he softly rubbed her back. This story truly upset her. He whimpered. "So they were, Virginia. Over the next one hundred and fifty years, they were hunted to death. No one trusted them anymore...everyone feared or loathed them. Over time the stories were twisted and changed, until some even believed the actions of the male dragon were approved by the Dragon Queen, that the whole thing had been some plot to take over the Kingdoms. A mutual animosity grew between dragons and humans, most notably those in the Fourth Kingdom, as you can expect, and it only fueled the extermination." His jaw quivered with his ire. He absolutely despised the mindset that caused the many to be hated for the actions of a few.

Slowly Virginia looked up at him, resting her chin on his breastbone, and he forced himself to relax. "And now there's only one left..." Her eyes were distant, her expression wooden, and he saw that the true magnitude of the task before them had finally sunk in. He wanted to find the words to reassure her, but could not. After all, how could they convince a dragon to save the Kingdoms that had rejected his race, and free the monarch of the Kingdom that had started their extinction?

Finally he found his voice and murmured as he brushed a lock of hair back from her forehead. "Yes...but perhaps he'll be as reasonable as the Dragon Queen was. After all, if he helps us, this'll give him the chance to make dragons into something they've never been before...heroes." In spite of what had happened to the Dwarves, Wolf rather hoped that would happen. Being a wolf, he knew what it was like to be hated. And he despised the little creepy Dwarves anyway; if not for their connection to Snow White, he wouldn't have cared what the dragons did to them.

Virginia finally smiled at this thought and lay her head back down on his chest. In minutes her eyes were closed and her breathing slowed into the easy patterns of sleep. Sighing in relief, Wolf reached down and cradled her closer, wrapping his hand around so it could rest on her swollen belly. He could feel the baby stirring inside, and hear its contented thoughts.

Stroking his mate, he surreptitiously checked the size of her stomach. Any day now, he reckoned, she would be giving birth. The sheer joy he felt surge through him at the thought of being a father was dampened, however, by the worry that this quest and its dangers would not be over in time. He absolutely had to ensure the safety of Virginia more than ever now!

With these half-excited, half-distraught thoughts, Wolf allowed himself to at last drift to sleep, his hand protectively cradling the cub and mate that he would give his own life for.

* * *

The next morning, spring frost lay on lichen-coated rocks and clung to the blades of grass, and Wolf shivered under his greatcoat as he knelt beside the ashes of the fire, stirring them restlessly with a stick. When it was clear no warmth would be forthcoming, he gently shook Virginia awake and went to fetch water from the spring. By the time he returned, she was fully awake and ready to travel again.

For all of that day they walked, pausing only for small meals to appease their stomachs before continuing on, following the main road, which at times became so narrow that it belied its name. Shadows encroached on their path, making it easy to trip on unseen roots, so Wolf assisted Virginia in avoiding them. At first she gave him annoyed looks, but when he would not desist, she sighed and relented, suffering herself to his guidance.

Virginia spoke little, which worried Wolf. He was certain she was brooding over their talk the night before, and the incredibly steep odds against convincing the dragon to aid their cause. He wished so fervently that he knew what to say to ease her mind, but huff-puff, that was the problem—there was nothing to say, because the tale of the dragons and all of Wolf's warnings of their chances were true. He could only hope that this dragon would be reasonable.

If only Virginia would talk to him!

Morning slid into afternoon, and still they traveled, moving in a straight line westward except for when they had to detour around a Gypsy camp. By nightfall they had traversed nearly all of the forest and had to make camp again beside another spring; it was so nearly identical to the first that if not for his sense of smell and direction, and the silhouettes of the mountains still another day ahead, Wolf would have thought that they had circled back to their starting point.

At this point Virginia finally spoke to him again, but it was only to ask how much further it was to the border of the Second Kingdom. Once told that they would cross the border the next day, she lay down and fell asleep beside the fire, leaving a subdued Wolf to sit and stare pensively into the flames.

The third day dawned much as the second had, but this time when fresh water had been gathered and they had set off once more, there was more to occupy their minds than the now-monotonous view of road and looming trees and hidden glens and slanting sunbeams. For ahead, and growing starker and more forbidding with every mile, the mountain peaks towered into the beautiful blue sky, their jagged outlines casting a deeper chill of shadows on the forest.

Wolf had his eyes on the mountains and was searching his memory for where the passes through the ridgeline lay—he was fairly certain one was not far distant, and that because it was seldom used, none of Riding Hood's patrols would be likely to be guarding it—when suddenly he sniffed the air. He had caught a familiar smell, a stench like rancid meat, mixed with leather, oil, and unwashed bodies.

No, it couldn't be. Even this close to the river, Trolls would not dare cross over. Yet he could not deny the odor, and with the Huntsman dead, there was nothing to prevent them from entering the forest and poaching...

A muffled curse came from somewhere nearby, and Virginia halted, tensing up. "What was that?"

Wolf didn't answer, merely placing a cautionary finger before his lips and leading the way closer, stepping carefully and silently so as not to disturb a single leaf or stone. After weaving his way among the leaning trunks of a stand of massive oaks, his sharp eyes detected a clearing ahead, and he could see forms moving about. Slowing his pace, he touched Virginia's arm and motioned her into the underbrush. Despite the muddy state of the ground, she complied, face pale as she bit her lip. She had no idea what lay ahead, but clearly his furtive movements and intense concentration had clued her in that it was no good.

Crawling now on hands and knees, Wolf crept closer and closer to the clearing, slipping through thickets and arching tree roots until he was nearly there, the sunlight warming his face as the canopy overhead thinned enough to let the sun illuminate and warm the scene before him.

At the far side of the glen, three massive draft horses stood pawing the earth restlessly, tied securely to a series of pine and hemlock trees with heavy leather and iron saddles on their backs and matching bridles. Nearby, several animal carcasses hung suspended from the limbs of an ash tree of humongous girth—fox, deer, and rabbit. All the animals were gutted and blood-splattered, the metallic tang in the air causing Wolf to salivate instinctively. Oddly enough, the pelts of the dangling bodies were also coated with pink dust—very familiar pink dust.

Suddenly, from somewhere to the left, concealed within the trees, something came crashing through the underbrush. A huge cloud of pink dust filled the air, then came the twang of a bow. The horses stirred fearfully. More crashing ensued.

"Suck an Elf!" This time the curse was quite clear, snarled in a brusque, male voice Wolf had hoped never to hear again. Then three Trolls, two quite gigantic and one rather puny, stumbled into the clearing. Behind him Wolf heard a startled, and quickly muffled, yelp from Virginia.

The shortest Troll, dark-skinned and with frizzy black hair, bared his crooked teeth and stabbed a finger accusingly. "I told you to wait 'til I fired the Troll dust!"

"You took too long!" protested the tallest Troll, his pasty complexion and pierced nose now surmounted by a great iron crown resembling the battlements of a crude fortress. "I would've had him if Blabberwort hadn't fired too soon!"

"Oh, shut up, Burly!" the third Troll snapped, her vivid orange hair fairly quivering with her rage. "You know very well my arrow would've killed it if you hadn't been in the way!" She slung her crossbow back over her shoulder and balled her fists.

Her brother ignored her, glaring instead across the clearing at the animals they had already killed. "Suck an Elf, I can't believe we came all this way, and that's all the meat we have to show for it. It's been a week already!"

The smallest Troll scowled. "Well, this was all your idea, Your Majesty!" He executed an exaggerated bow, his pronunciation of the title making it sound like an insult.

Burly whirled. "Bluebell, do you want me to pound you into next week?"

He approached his brother menacingly, but at that moment a soft, stifled sound came from behind Wolf. Turning, he saw Virginia right behind him, one hand clamped over her mouth to hold back a sneeze. Her eyes were tearing and scrunched up.

Before he could offer her his handkerchief, she lost control and sneezed, loudly and violently. Wolf closed his eyes.

He turned to face the clearing again, to see all three Trolls looking with narrowed eyes toward their hiding place, hands upon their weapons.

"Who's there?" Burly demanded.

"Oh, cripes," Wolf whispered.

* * *

Eyes trained on the three Trolls, Virginia tried to fight the sinking feeling in her stomach. Those damn mold allergies! They'd betrayed her when she and her father had hidden in those barrows from the Huntsman, and they had done so again now.

Beside her she caught Wolf scratching at his temple out of the corner of her eye. From the calculating expression on his face, she guessed he was debating whether to fight or run. Deciding to take matters into her own hands—this was her fault, after all—she began crawling out of hiding.

Wolf clutched at her shoulder. "Virginia, no!"

Shaking his hand free, she stood up and stepped out boldly into the clearing. "It's us."

It was an interesting exercise trying to determine which of the Trolls was more surprised. After exchanging quick, terrified glances with his siblings, Bluebell at last exclaimed, "It's the witch from the Tenth Kingdom!"

"And that Wolf," Burly growled, as Wolf emerged from the brush in a feral crouch.

Blabberwort unsheathed her sword and grinned. "Nicee nice! Let's get them!"

All three approached menacingly, but Virginia held her ground. She had sworn to herself after her adventure that she would never run again, certainly not from the likes of these three. "No," she replied calmly. "I don't think so."

The orange-haired Trolline narrowed her suspicious eyes and brandished her weapon as she sneered derisively. "And just who is going to stop us?"

"I am," Virginia answered. "If you do not let us pass, I will put you in a matchbox again." She tensed, hoping they would not call her bluff.

But Burly did. "Sure you will, just like you did all the times we were chasing you."

Virginia quickly shook her head, mind racing. "No, I didn't want to hurt you if I didn't have to."

Blabberwort snorted. "This we believe, from the one who killed our dad!"

Wolf snarled, saving Virginia from having to counter this ridiculous charge. "She did not! The Queen killed the Troll King!"

All three Trolls began laughing uproariously. As they clutched their stomachs, Burly choked out, "Why would the Queen do that? We were working for her!"

"Exactly!" Virginia cried. "She knew I was a threat, so she needed you to go after me. And if you knew she killed your father, you'd stop working for her. She had to lie."

Bluebell had stopped laughing, his expression troubled. "She does have a point. Dad and the Queen were always arguing, and we all thought he should have left her in the cell."

Burly rounded on his brother. "Shut up! Who's the king here, you or me?"

Bluebell looked ready to retort a reply, but Blabberwort elbowed him before pointing her sword at Virginia. "Why should we believe you? You'd say anything to stay alive."

Virginia didn't know what to say to that—anything she said they could deny with the same excuse. But Wolf interjected again, to her relief. "Because I say so! I used to work for the Queen, too, and I changed sides. Doesn't that say something?"

"Yeah, that wolves can't be trusted!" Burly crossed his arms and smiled proudly, as his siblings cheered him on.

Wolf snarled again, but Virginia restrained him. Even so, his countenance blurred and shifted, beginning to take on his lupine form, which served to frighten and subdue the Trolls somewhat.

The respite allowed her to come up with a rebuttal. Keeping her voice level and firm, she said, "You should believe me because of what you know of the Queen. Prince Wendell told us that he saw your father in Kissing Town—well, his head anyway. The dog was holding it out a carriage window. He couldn't have killed the Troll King. Agreed?"

Grudgingly, the three nodded.

"Well then, how did he end up with his head if I killed him?" Virginia jutted her chin out triumphantly. "The only way he could have gotten your father's head is if the Queen, who was keeping the dog prisoner, gave it to him."

Now it was Blabberwort's turn to look doubtful. Sheathing her sword, she put her hands on her hips. "Perhaps, girlie...but you only have Wendell's word on this. Tell us, then, how the Troll King died."

At least that was an easy question to answer. "He was poisoned. I know because I was there when the Royal Physician did the autopsy." Even if she'd had to stand near the door to avoid the sights and smells. "And he was found in the Merrypips Apple Orchard. Who else would use poisoned apples except the Queen? She served Snow White's Evil Stepmother!"

Burly frowned, his forehead crinkling, and Virginia could almost imagine steam was rising from his scalp as he struggled to think this all through. Grunting, he said, rather petulantly,

"But why would she do that to Dad? He helped her escape prison!"

Wolf snorted and rolled his eyes. "Isn't it obvious, Troll boy? He was trying to take over Wendy's Kingdom. She wanted to rule all nine, so she couldn't have that, now could she?"

Virginia glanced at him gratefully, but Burly formed a knotted fist and shook it in Wolf's face, his pig-like eyes flashing. "That's 'Your Majesty' to you, wolfie!" He tapped his crown suggestively. "And even if you're right, your witch-lover had just as much reason to kill Dad. He wanted to burn her feet, and he sent us after you to capture her!" He exchanged knowing glances with his siblings, who bobbed their heads like a pair of pigeons.

Resisting the urge to rub her temples in frustration, Virginia forced herself to stay rational. Even if these Trolls were the stupidest creatures imaginable, she couldn't afford to lose her temper and provoke one of them into attacking. "No, that's not right, Your Majesty. Once you were turned to gold and we got away, I had no other reason to fear your father or want him dead. I was far away from him, and he was too busy taking over the Kingdom to threaten me. I was running from the Huntsman and chasing after the magic mirror! When would I have had time to kill him?" She looked now at Blabberwort the most as she made her appeal; as far as she'd been able to determine, Blabberwort was the smartest of the three.

All three Trolls were now looking sheepish and confused, clearly wavering. Virginia felt a surge of hope, until Burly muttered, "But you took Dad's magic shoes. You knew he'd come after them, and hurt you to get them."

Oops. How would she explain this one? "True...but I only took them so I could get away. Once I was free and had rescued my father, I didn't need them anymore." That was not true, of course, the addiction had made her need them more than anything else, but she was not about to admit that to Burly. Not when at any moment the balance could tip against her.

Suddenly it did. With a crafty expression, Burly the Troll King extended one gnarled hand toward her. "Very well...if you are telling the truth, and mean no more harm, then give us the shoes back. As a gesture of good faith...to prove you didn't kill our dad."

Virginia froze in horror, stammering a reply. "I-I-I c-c-can't. I...I l-lost them."

"What?" Burly's voice was a menacing growl, and abruptly all three Trolls' weapons were brought to bear, gleaming in the sunlight. Blabberwort even lifted a slingshot filled with Troll dust.

Involuntarily Virginia took a step back, but Wolf unobtrusively stopped her retreat with one hand, even as he stepped into the breach. "What my creamy love has neglected to say is that I threw them away...in the river. I had to, because she was addicted to them."

Virginia glared at him, but then paused, for it seemed to have worked. The Trolls were lowering their weapons, albeit reluctantly. Apparently they too knew the dangers of the shoes.

"It's true," Virginia said, her voice stronger again. "That's why I knew your father wasn't a threat, I didn't have his shoes anymore. But if I did," and here she met each of their eyes, even though it made her shudder to do so, "I'd give them to you in a second." This was true; she hated the shoes, even if they had been useful and beautiful and had provided the first hint of her attraction and love for Wolf. If she'd had them at Wendell's castle she'd have given them to the Trolls after they were pardoned.

But that reminded her of something else. "So you see, I have no reason to lie to you about your father. I could have kept quiet about the shoes, but I didn't. And my father, who fought you, was the one who argued for your pardon! If he'd do that, why would I kill your father?"

She held her breath and waited. She did not add that the Queen had been her mother; that knowledge could be twisted to say she'd killed Relish to protect the Queen, or that a person who could kill her own mother would have no qualms about killing the Troll King.

After a long silence, Blabberwort nodded. "That may well be, girlie. But the fact is, you did throw away our shoes, one of our greatest magics, which you had no right to do. And it's easy for you to say you'd give them back when you don't have them anymore."

Crestfallen, Virginia sighed. She hadn't thought of that wrinkle. But Wolf once again came to the rescue. "Oh, stop whining about the shoes! You're better off without them. Your father was probably addicted himself." Wolf's eyes dared them to challenge him.

But for once the Trolls didn't. All three had sullen expressions and lowered eyes, as if Wolf had hit upon a point they could not dispute. "That's for us to judge," Burly muttered at last.

Seeing a chance to escape safely, Virginia said as gently as possible, "You don't have to believe us, at least not right now. Just let us go, let us pass by without any more delay."

Blabberwort eyed her shrewdly, or as shrewdly as she could manage. "Why?"

"Yeah!" Bluebell piped up, finally emerging from his perpetual crouch, where he had remained ever since the argument had gone over his head. "You should go back to the Tenth Kingdom, if you go anywhere!"

"And I will...after I finish the journey I'm on." Virginia took a deep breath; she didn't expect them to believe what had happened, but maybe it would distract the Trolls enough for them to slip away unnoticed. "The Fourth Kingdom's in danger, and I have to help King Wendell."

Burly snorted, smirking. "So His Royal Dogness has gotten himself in trouble again, huh? And why should we care, even if you're not lying?"

She fixed her eyes squarely on Burly. "You especially should care. Because all the Kingdoms and their rulers are threatened."

"What?" This time Burly's anger and suspicion were not directed at her, thankfully.

Slowly, using small words she was sure they could understand, Virginia explained about the Ice Queen and her spell, and the plan she had overheard using the Spying mirror. "So now Wolf and I are going to find someone who can help us break the spell," she finished. "But if you get a message from Wendell, don't trust it. Don't go to the palace. Stay far away."

She didn't expect these idiots to listen, nor did she really care what the Ice Queen might do to them, but she didn't want them in the castle causing more trouble when the time came to face the Witch of Winter with the dragon at their side.

Assuming they got that far.

Blabberwort sniffed haughtily. "We shall decide what we will and won't do, not you, girlie." Then she motioned her brothers into a hurried conference.

Virginia clasped her hands in front of her, wringing them nervously. Wolf stepped closer and wrapped his arm around her, and she straightened up as he lent his support once again. He inclined his head toward the underbrush, suggesting they should make a break for it now, but she shook her head, pointing at the huddle of Trolls, where Burly was keeping a watchful eye on them.

Finally, though, the three turned back and regarded them arrogantly, but all of them, especially Bluebell, could not quite hide the fear that her story had planted. "Very well, witch," Burly said in what he clearly considered his most authoritative, regal voice. "You may go, but if we find out that you have lied to us about anything, then next time you won't be so lucky."

"Because we'll take you to our palace again!" Bluebell chimed in eagerly.

"And then you'll find out the true meaning of torture," Blabberwort purred darkly. Her eyes were trained suggestively on Virginia's belly.

Virginia trembled anew, unable to move, but Wolf grabbed her and began dragging her from the clearing.

"Go!" Burly barked.

Virginia's legs needed no further urging, unlocking so that she could flee through the clutching limbs and wet, slapping leaves into the blessed concealment of a forest path.

When she and Wolf were far away and could no longer see—or smell—the Trolls, she leaned against him heavily. That had been too close. She still could not stop trembling; that threat to her unborn baby had been far too much. She'd expected Wolf to attack Blabberwort, but thankfully he had not, resisting his instincts and taking the intelligent way out.

But now he was chuckling! Virginia lifted her head and stared up at him incredulously. "Wolf? What...?"

"Oh, Virginia! You were magnificent back there! Standing up to those three, not backing down for an instant...such drama! I'm so proud of you, my creamy darling!" And he embraced her tightly.

Blushing in spite of herself, Virginia managed a small smile. So she had. She'd never gotten closure with the Trolls, her father had dealt with them (and with remarkable skill and efficiency). But now she'd gotten her chance.

And it felt so satisfying. Now they would never terrorize her again.

Patting Wolf's back, she kissed his cheek and then pulled away to point along the path. "Thanks, Wolf. But now we'd better get out of here...before anything else happens!"

* * *

Brushing her hair back from her face, Virginia could not help but cringe inwardly as she vividly recalled the horrible Gypsy curse that had made it infinitely longer. Ever since she had returned to New York with Wolf, she had become obsessive about keeping it trimmed, even when it didn't need it, so afraid had she been that the curse would return, magic axe notwithstanding. It had been a wise move to avoid the Gypsy camp this time around.

Hoisting her waterskins up on her shoulder again, she glanced back along the path, still furtively looking for the Trolls. She and Wolf had traveled until noon and made camp, and Wolf had sent her ahead to the river to fetch water. They were far out of danger now, but Virginia could not shake that fiendish malice in Blabberwort's eyes as she subtly threatened the baby. The fear she had felt then was now transformed into rage and an overwhelming desire to protect her child with her life—almost like a mother wolf with her cubs.

Virginia smiled to herself. Which, in a way, she now was.

Ahead, the trees began to thin, and Virginia picked up her pace, the sound of flowing water reaching her ears. At last, she broke from cover to stand on the slope above the riverbank. Across the churning expanse of water, the land rose in rugged foothills that soon angled up into sharp mountain peaks. Their stark, cruel outlines seemed like brooding giants, cold and friendless despite the sunny day. That, she knew, marked the end of the Disenchanted Forest and, according to Wolf and her memories of the map, the beginning of the Second Kingdom.

Red Riding Hood's Kingdom.

Virginia frowned. Surely that particular queen and her subjects hated and feared wolves more than anyone else in the Kingdoms. Would it be safe to travel there? Was that what had Wolf so worried?

She sighed. There was nothing to be done about it, if so. They had no other choice. The Sixth Kingdom, she recalled, was on an isolated peninsula, and they could not fly, swim, or boat there.

Lowering her gaze back to the river, she marveled at how this was the same river that, farther south, she had sailed with Wolf, her father, and Wendell what seemed a lifetime ago. The river where, on the way from the prison to Rivertown, Wolf had discarded the magic shoes. Idly she wondered what had happened to them; the Trolls had wanted them so badly. But they could be anywhere by now. Wolf had once told her magic liked to move around, and you couldn't get more mobile than being carried on a river current!

The waterskins slipped again, reminding Virginia she was here for a purpose, not to think and wonder and divine the vagaries of magic. Sighing, she picked her way down the muddy slope to the riverbank, where a sheltered cove gave her plenty of still water to draw from.

She had filled both skins, brushed her hair back yet again, and turned to rise when she saw something odd. There along the bank, buried in the mud, were two strange lumps.

Approaching them warily, she noted they were roughly oval in shape, exactly the same size, and had a hole in one end, almost like a crawdad nest. But when she nerved herself and reached inside, they were empty.

Growing more and more curious, Virginia began tugging on the objects, trying to work them free of the mud. They were just starting to come loose, and she had readjusted her grip, when she felt something cold and metallic under her palms. Frowning, she sat back and fingered the mud-coated lumps of metal at one end of the two mysterious "treasures"—and then her hands fell back.

They were tiny iron crowns.

Almost of their own accord, her hands started scraping and rubbing and smearing the mud away, knowing what they would find, yet denying it until she saw it with her own eyes. In short order she had cleaned enough of the mud away to expose what lay underneath.

Gold and jewels glittered back at her.

Virginia's hands jerked away as if burned. No, it couldn't be. But it was.

It was the Troll King's magic shoes.


	5. Four: On Perilous Paths

**Four**: On Perilous Paths

Warily backing away from the riverbank, Virginia flexed and clenched her fingers, thoughts whirling through her head as she attempted to explain, or more to the point explain away, what she was seeing. But there could be no other explanation; the shoes were far too real to be some product of her imagination, spurred into being by her own recent musings on their whereabouts and the Trolls' demand for their return putting them foremost in her mind.

And the river, she noted distractedly, flowed northward, so the shoes could easily have been carried here from where Wolf had tossed them overboard. The spring rains had clearly caused flooding along the river, which would account for the shoes being buried in the mud all this time.

Rolling her eyes at this fevered analysis, she forced herself to wrench her thoughts back where they belonged—the present. What was she to do now? Her first instinct was to leave the shoes where they were, or throw them back in the river, and then run away before she could become addicted again. That was the last thing this quest needed. Her second impulse was to grab them, run back to where the Trolls were encamped, and hurl the shoes at them with a shout of "Good riddance!" If they wanted them so badly, they could have them.

But then, as she regained control of her breathing and calmed herself, Virginia considered a new angle. The shoes could be extremely useful, in so many ways. The Second Kingdom and its hostile ruler lay ahead, as did the Sixth Kingdom, the dragon, and ultimately the Ice Queen. Who knew how imperative it might be to have the magic of invisibility to rely upon?

Besides, she wasn't addicted. She wasn't.

Feeling her will crumbling, Virginia slowly knelt once more and pulled the shoes the rest of the way free, washing them clean in the flowing water. Rising woodenly, she was gazing down at them, fingers biting into the jeweled leather, when she heard a distant voice that must have been shouting for some time, judging by its volume.

"Virginia? Virginia!"

It was Wolf.

Turning, she gripped the magic shoes harder, the tingling sensation building up in her palms, spreading through her hands and up her arms, potent and overwhelming after their long dormancy and lack of use. Hurriedly she thrust the shoes into her rucksack, unwilling to reveal their presence yet to Wolf, or deal with what they might mean to her.

She was about to call out and reassure him she was all right when she heard the music.

It was very faint at first, as if coming from a great distance away, but it was growing louder with every moment. The tune was one she had never heard before, yet at the same time it possessed a vague familiarity, as if she had heard it once very long ago, as if she had been hearing it through all her past lifetimes, as if it were an indelible part of who she was.

It called to her in a lilting, ethereal, haunting melody, endless arpeggios of notes blending and intertwining, sounding Irish or Scottish at first, then shifting to Asian, then Scandinavian, never staying long in one culture, style, or key. Yet one thing remained constant, that undeniable power that drew her toward it.

Before she was even aware of it, her feet were moving, and she found herself walking along the riverbank, climbing up the slope and proceeding northward at a steady but trembling pace. At some point, the waterbags slipped from her shoulder, falling to the ground, but she paid them no mind. All her attention was focused on that beautiful music, and the longing it stirred to powerful life within her.

After a few miles, she rounded a bend to discover a wooden footbridge across the river, and without hesitation she crossed it, emerging from the forest into the warm spring sunlight. Somewhere in the back of her mind she could hear Wolf's frantic cries, and then a howl splitting the air, but somehow she could not bring herself to acknowledge them.

Silent and enthralled, she merely walked on, until she came to a crossroads.

To the north and south the rutted tracks of many wagon wheels and the prints of countless boots attested to the amount of traffic this road received, but to the west the road became a narrow track, barely visible through the overgrowth of grass and weeds. And it was in that direction the music called her.

Shuffling across the crossroads, she looked up with disinterest at the wooden arrows of the signpost: to the south lay Beantown, one hundred miles distant, while the northern sign said, HAMELIN 5 MILES. Glancing that way, she could just see a verdant valley between rolling hills, and rising from within it the quaint wood-and-slate buildings of a medieval town, with a church spire or town hall bell tower rising from the center of the village.

A memory tickled at the back of her mind, telling her she should be remembering something important, but the music was as compelling as ever, and she shrugged it aside, continuing on.

By the time she reached the foothills and began climbing up into the mountains, Virginia was sweating and panting in the heat of noonday. Wiping her brow, she began muttering and grumbling under her breath, yet she still could not tear herself away from the call. The stubborn and independent streak inside her that had taken over and kept the Lewis household in line and operating smoothly in the years after her mother's disappearance rebelled now. Why should she be following the beckoning call of some invisible musician?

She had never listened to anybody before but herself, and Wolf, and her instincts were crying out to her to resist, to turn back.

Virginia halted in place at the base of a ledge winding up into the mountains and tried to retreat, but her feet seemed rooted to the earth, as if grown into it. Gritting her teeth and digging her fingernails into her palms, she struggled again, perspiring heavily, but it was no use. She might as well have her feet sunk in concrete.

Giving up with a whimper of despair, she relaxed...and once again of their own accord, her feet started moving forward, carrying her up the ledge.

After about half an hour of climbing, she reached the crest of the ledge and gazed about in awe. From her vantage point of nearly a hundred feet up, she could see for miles around, and everywhere she looked lay something impressive. To the north she could now see Hamelin from above, looking tiny at this distance; the winding cobblestone streets were packed with villagers on their way to and from eating establishments, as well as horses and carts carrying all sorts of goods to and from the marketplace.

Beyond the village, the road continued onward toward a castle—not as large or massive as Wendell's palace, but still quite ornate and beautiful, with white marble walls and countless towers spearing up into the sky, flapping with pennons and flags. To the east lay the extent of the Disenchanted Forest, its canopy resembling green cotton from this height, branches tossing in the wind, creaking and sighing.

She could almost imagine the forest was whispering a warning to her, attempting to draw her back from the precipice on which she perched. Since it was alive, that was certainly possible...not that Virginia needed a warning to know she was in danger.

Not that she could do anything about it.

Once more the music directed her steps, tugging her onward as if she were a marionette on strings. Despite the fear and distress in her heart, the music was light and airy and made her want to dance. She almost skipped along the ledge, mimicking Sally Peep and those stupid shepherdesses as they'd flaunted their legs on the field outside Little Lamb Village.

Ahead, the ledge wound around the mountain peak, growing narrower and more treacherous, yet still the music dragged her along in its wake. It was much louder now, and clearer, and she could tentatively identify it as the music of a flute or...a pipe.

Horror filled Virginia as she realized at once where the music must be coming from. Glancing back in the direction of Hamelin, she shivered. But shouldn't the Pied Piper be dead? Unless that hadn't happened two hundred years ago, like all the Grimm fairy tales...

She paused, narrowing her eyes—what was that shadow, back there on the ledge? She froze in place, shading her face with her hand, but whatever the shape was, it darted back out of sight—yet she still caught a glimpse of huge, lumbering paws, thick gray fur, and a hulking, muscled body.

Again the music latched onto her soul, making her stumble forward in its haste to drive her on, and she almost toppled from the ledge. Pulling back at the last moment, she bit back a scream and hurried around the bend, as much to get away from her pursuer as to obey the music—only to be confronted by a sheer cliff face! Several hundred yards ahead, the ledge dead-ended, with no offshoots, and no handholds above or below. She was trapped, and whatever was following her would be able to attack her with impunity.

A deep growl echoed along the ledge, and something massive and furred began to pad around the bend...but as Virginia pressed herself against the cliff face, a shudder ran through the mountain. Heart pounding, she jerked away, backing as far as she dared, as a grinding rumble shook the rock. Cracks formed in the cliff, while pebbles and small rocks tumbled down from above. How did things keep getting worse? Now the mountain was collapsing!

But no, she soon discovered she was wrong. Before her astonished eyes a massive crack formed in the cliff, and with a jerk, the two halves of the boulder blocking her path separated, rolling outwards to expose a vast cavern burrowing into the mountain. Virginia hesitated; now she had an escape route from the beast, but she was not certain she wanted to go into a secret cave where unknown dangers waited, or not unknown, if what she suspected was true.

The music gave her no choice. Powerless to do otherwise, she followed the last stretch of ledge, passing between the sections of the cliff face with a shudder as she felt the weight of the mountain settling down all around her. The cavern she entered looked almost man-made, rounded and smooth and free of any stalactites or stalagmites as it extended endlessly into the cold depths of the peak. The only light spilled in from outside—except a small patch of iridescence glowing somewhere ahead.

Despite her misgivings she hurried toward it, toward the source of the music, which was quite loud now and echoing eerily in the enclosed space. Behind her she heard the animal scrabbling around in the cave entrance and she dashed ahead, letting out a small shriek. Hands extended in front of her in case she ran into anything in the dark, she stumbled through the tunnel.

After several terrifying minutes of harrowing flight, Virginia reached another chamber, her heart pounding at a breakneck rhythm. The argent light was quite brilliant here, and as she looked up she saw it was coming from the pipe she had been following—although it more specifically resembled a recorder, the metallic shaft bulging with a fipple and bearing a flared mouth raised high. The shimmering instrument was being played by a handsome young man with auburn hair in a pageboy's cut, dressed in a costume right out of Robin Hood: a tricornered, feathered hat, a leather tunic, leggings, and doeskin boots turned down at the ankles, all dyed in alternating shades of scarlet and gold.

Smiling in delight, the man lowered the pipe from his lips, but it continued to shine and give off a constant, sustained note, locking Virginia's muscles in place so that she could not flee. "Why hello there, milady." His voice was as gentle and lilting as his music. "What a fetching damsel you are! Perfect in every way...my pipe never fails to bring me the very best." His eyes ran up and down her frame, assessing her in a manner Virginia found extremely offensive. "I simply cannot take my eyes off you!"

Finding her voice, Virginia snapped, "Well, you'd better!" She crossed her arms over her chest, blocking his view as she surreptitiously began scanning the cave for any exit other than the way she had entered.

But the Pied Piper pursed his lips and tsked softly, shaking his head. "Now is that any way to speak to your benefactor?"

She frowned, a chill going through her. She remembered the legend of the Piper quite well, and knew that the Piper always expected a reward for his services...and he had not named either service or reward. The fact that he had ensnared her will with his pipe did not bode well at all. "I'm sorry, but there's nothing you can give me that I want."

"On the contrary...I can give you...myself!" He leaped off of the boulder on which he stood and bowed with a flourish. "I am yours to cherish and honor for life."

Virginia had backed away as he jumped down toward her, but now she froze in mid-step. "What do you mean?" she demanded, although she had a sinking suspicion what was on his mind.

"Why, it is quite simple, really...I shall be your husband, and you shall be my wife, of course." A suggestive wink accompanied his words.

"No!" The cry burst from her lips instinctively, and she threw up her hands to ward him away. "There's no way I'll marry you!"

The Piper chuckled, raising one eyebrow in a humorous expression. "The sweetest ladies always play hard to get, I see...lovely maiden, I must disagree with you. Marriage is your fate, and I assure you it is a most pleasant one. I shall shower you with every finery and comfort you can imagine, as well as my undying love. You shall have a castle, gowns, balls, ladies-in-waiting, whatever your heart desires." His azure eyes burned with an earnest devotion, nigh on worship, as he gazed up at her.

Virginia put a hand to her brow, rubbing it in frustration. How was she to get out of this one? "What my heart desires is my freedom."

Blinking in confusion, the Piper sighed and reached out for her hand. "My dear, there is nothing to fear. I know this is rather sudden, and unexpected, and that the manner in which you came here was unusual to say the least, but believe me when I say you shall look back on this day with fondness, as the romantic beginning of a wonderful relationship."

"Romantic?" Virginia cried incredulously. She jerked her hand away. "You call this romantic? I call it coercion. And anyway, it doesn't matter, mister, because I've already got a husband, thank you very much." Of course she and Wolf weren't married yet, but they would be soon, and none of this was the Piper's business.

Disbelief was etched in his young face, and for a moment his mouth worked without producing any sounds. Then he recovered his composure and cast on her a condescending look. "I'm afraid that's impossible. The spell is faultless, my pipe cannot fail to bring me my perfect mate."

"I don't care if it's impossible, it happened. I'm in love, married, and I won't be your wife." Virginia glared at him in finality, one hand reaching back over her shoulder to dig inside her rucksack for the magic shoes.

The Piper's face hardened, his eyes the hue of a churning sea under a stormy sky, filled with desperation. He snatched her hand and pulled her close, jaw quivering. "You have no choice..." Then, keeping his eyes fixed on hers, he lifted his pipe, which had begun to glow brighter, to his lips...

* * *

Once more Virginia attempted to break free of the Piper's grasp, but his grip was like a vise. Snarling, she cried, "Let go of me! I won't be your wife, I don't _want_ to be your wife...and even if I did, in case you haven't noticed, I'm pregnant!"

This finally fazed the Piper, and he flinched, staring down in shock and incredulity at her swollen belly. "But...how can this be? The pipe would never...I merely assumed you were a lady accustomed to good eating..." He flushed in embarrassment at his mistake, and for the first time appeared both apologetic and considerate of her welfare. He seemed unable to take his eyes off her stomach.

And it was in that moment of his distraction that the beast struck.

Virginia had a fleeting glimpse of gray fur and great bulk, smelled a musky scent stifling in the confined cave, sensed more than saw the blur of motion as it leapt, and instinctively she ducked, tearing free of the Piper's now-slack grip and rolling across the floor. The beast landed atop the terrified man and bore him to the ground, claws tearing at his mismatched clothing, fangs snapping before his face, paws pinning him down.

It was only when she scrambled back to her feet and had the magic shoes in her hands that Virginia realized with explosive relief and amused satisfaction that the creature attacking the Pied Piper was Wolf in his lupine form.

But she took no further time to think, because even as she watched Wolf slam the Piper against the cavern floor, she saw the young man lifting his pipe again. She didn't know if he could control Wolf with it, especially while maintaining his hold on her, but she didn't want to take the chance that he couldn't. Hurriedly she fitted first one shoe, then the other, onto her feet over her loafers.

At once the power surged through her, making her gasp at its strength. The shoes glowed, and swirls of golden magic whirled around her body in concentric spirals, enveloping her in the familiar vortex. She smiled in spite of herself as she held out a hand and watched it vanish into a shimmer in the air, then nothing at all.

Unseen now, she crept across the cavern on silent feet, and as Wolf swiped at the Piper, causing him to wrench the pipe away from his lips in her direction, she reached down and snatched the instrument cleanly from his hands. At once the pipe went silent and its glow faded. The spell was broken.

Frozen in place beneath Wolf's snarling form, the Piper stared in stupefaction as the magic enveloped the pipe, shrouding it too with invisibility so that it vanished. "What magic is this?"

"I have my ways," Virginia replied dryly, her disembodied voice discommoding the Piper yet further. "And now that I have your pipe, you are no further threat to me. Wolf? Let's go." At the sound of her voice, the enormous wolf climbed off of the prone young man, tongue lolling out in a canine laugh, and joined her at the cavern entrance.

The two had nearly made it back to the ledge, and Virginia had relaxed, when the Piper's voice arrested her, calling out in despair from the depths of the cave. "No, wait! Please! Milady...forgive me my error...but do not deprive me of my magic! It is my only hope..."

Virginia snorted. "Why? So you can do this to some other poor defenseless girl?" In spite of herself, however, she looked back. Something in his tone...

She blinked in surprise as the Piper stepped into the light. Tears streaked his fine-boned cheeks, and his expression was one of absolute misery. "You don't understand...you can't possibly know what it's like to be alone, without love, with no hope for a fulfilled life..."

"Oh yeah?" Feeling the familiar constriction in her heart, the sensation she'd always had as she thought of her future before Wolf, Virginia shook her head. "Don't bet on it..."

"This was my last chance...my only option left." Clenching his hands into fists, the Piper slumped down on a rock, his shoulders sagging. "I would never truly demand a lady love me against her will...but I did not know what else to do!"

Slowly Virginia softened. If anything could excuse this young man, it was the heartache and loneliness that she too had known all her life. There was clearly a story here, and she longed to know what it was. The man did not seem dangerous without his pipe, so there was no harm in lingering a short while. Perhaps she could help him, and ensure that no one else would be lured into the same magical trap.

Wolf was still growling audibly under his breath, so she gently laid her hand on his thick neckruff, stroking him until he quieted. Then she sighed. "Maybe you'd better start at the beginning. Who are you, and how did you end up in this situation?"

The Piper looked up morosely, frowned, and then gazed in her general direction, trying to focus on her voice to locate where she stood. "My name is Colin. Prince Colin. I am the great-grandson of the original Pied Piper...a dubious distinction to say the least, as he not only stole the children of Hamelin, but sold them into Troll slavery. He was a wicked man, but it is his castle that I inherited—he too was a prince, I am sorry to say. Unlike my great-grandfather, I have been good to my people, and they love me deeply.

"But...I am alone. I have been unable to find a princess, or any lady for that matter, who would love me and marry me. At least, none who would marry me for who I am, as opposed to my wealth."

He paused, wringing his hands, and then bit his lip, a rather unaristocratic action. "You must understand...I am a highly eligible bachelor, and I am the target of numerous fortunehunters. I am, if I do say so myself, an excellent choice for a mate. Yet...I cannot seem to find the one, she who will truly love me, she whom I deserve."

Virginia rolled her eyes, even though no one could see her. Lovesick and lonely this prince might be; but he was also quite self-absorbed and narcissistic. He was worse than Wendell. "So...you resorted to a magic spell?" She could not conceal the reproach in her tone.

Colin flinched as if stung, and his lip trembled, but when he spoke it was in resignation. "I...I could not help it, milady. I was so desperate...I still am! I thought...I thought if I could simply summon the perfect mate, she would love me on sight and we would be Happy Ever After. I know it was foolish, but I am at my wits' end. I have been here for two weeks, and you are the first to respond, so I was certain..."

Swiping his hat from his head, the Piper threw it on the ground. "I simply cannot comprehend it! It must be that the pipe is as evil as my great-grandfather Ethan! It tricked me, it purposely summoned an unavailable lady as my 'perfect mate'!"

A soft chuckle answered the frustrated prince. Turning, Virginia saw Wolf leaning against a stalagmite, back in human form, smirking. Now that she was no longer in danger, he seemed quite calm and in control. "Perhaps, princey. Or maybe it is that Virginia is your perfect mate, just as she is mine...because she is so deliciously creamy and dreamy that she would be a perfect mate for anyone."

Again, although no one could see her, Virginia rolled her eyes—but she also blushed deeply. "Stop exaggerating, Wolf."

"Oh, but Virginia, you know I'm not!" Wolf peered at her beseechingly with his puppy-dog eyes, and she had to laugh.

The Piper, meanwhile, was smiling softly. "I must agree with your mate, milady. You are extraordinary."

Virginia coughed loudly. "Ahem! I think we're getting off the point here. I sympathize with you, Prince Colin, but I can't in good conscience return your pipe to you unless you promise not to use it to summon any more ladies."

"Do not worry, after the way it has failed me today, I will never use it so again." The Piper nodded emphatically, but then lowered his gaze and sighed. "But now I shall never find love, either."

Not with an attitude like that you won't, buddy, she thought. But aloud she said, "That's just it, your Highness. You don't find love, it finds you." She smiled warmly at Wolf. "That's what happened to me. I'd try and help you more, but Wolf and I have an urgent quest we must complete, and we've been delayed enough as it is."

"Oh?" The Piper raised an eyebrow curiously. "And what quest is that?"

Virginia hesitated, but concluded there was no harm in telling him. "The Ice Queen is trying to take over the Nine Kingdoms, and we're trying to stop her." She then proceeded yet again to explain about the ice spell that had claimed Wendell and Tony, and the lone dragon within the Sixth Kingdom who could be their only salvation.

By the time she had finished, Colin was on his feet, a fire in his eyes. Clenching one hand into a fist, he slammed it into the palm of the other. "Why, that's monstrous! Utterly reprehensible! She must be stopped!" He seemed to consider, and then his expression lit up like the silver lining of a stormcloud. "And I shall help you do it."

Virginia started, then hastened to gainsay him. "Um, no, that's not necessary...and anyway, you'd just slow us down."

But the Piper was adamant, his expression as unrelenting as when he had intended to make her his wife. Now that he had something else to focus on besides his self-pity, he seemed galvanized for action—or perhaps he was this impulsive with everything he did. "No I would not! I am young and hardy, and a seasoned traveler. I will be no trouble to you. In fact I could be a valuable asset!"

Wolf cut him off with a growl, the suspicion and dislike returning to his eyes as they glinted golden in the near-darkness. "But that's just it, Piper-boy, you've already been trouble to us. And there's no way we can trust you. A wolfie always follows his instincts, and my instincts are tellin' me to steer clear of you!"

To Virginia's surprise, Colin was unfazed and did not show a trace of fear. By contrast he squared his shoulders and attempted to look as dignified and proud as he could in such a ridiculous, and tattered, costume. "That may be true. But what better way is there for me to repent, to absolve my guilt, and to gain your trust than by aiding in this great quest? It is certainly far more critical than my doomed search for love. And with my pipe...why I could bring you safely through Red Riding Hood's demesnes, to the dragon, and even enchant the Ice Queen!"

Slowly Virginia gazed down at the instrument in her hands—or rather, tried to, as it was invisible to her too. But she could still feel it as she gripped the silver shaft. She had not even considered these possibilities. If the Piper came with them, he would not be left alone and tempted to summon another mate, and he could be a great ally. Yet...could the pipe ever be used for good? She feared not...but on the other hand, the magic shoes were not exactly beneficent, and they had been used in a good cause just now. Her head whirled as the scales for and against tipped back and forth in her mind.

The Piper could not see any of the indecision on her face, so with no indication of what effect his words had had, he turned to Wolf with his next appeal. "And not only that...this tunnel in which we stand leads through the mountains. It is the same path my great-grandfather took with the children of Hamelin to the Third Kingdom...but another branch comes out at a secret pass into the Second Kingdom! I know the way. We can enter unnoticed and escape Riding Hood's patrols. Quite safe and free from harm, especially for a wolf such as yourself." He eyed Wolf knowingly.

Now it was Wolf's turn to vacillate. After several minutes during which he alternately whined and growled, he finally burst into a fit of temple-scratching and snarled, "Oh, huff-puff, what to do!"

But the Piper's final argument had convinced Virginia. If there was a safer, quicker route through the mountains, one that would keep Wolf from harm, she would take it...and if only the Piper knew it...then she would have to agree to bring him along. "All right," she sighed at last. "You can come."

Wolf whirled, eyes harried and wild, and clutched her arm, somehow catching it on the first try. "Virginia! Don't! We don't need him...I can sniff out the trail! And if he comes along he will only try and ensorcell you again."

Colin spluttered, but Virginia ignored him. "Maybe. But that's a chance we'll have to take...there are too many variables, and I don't want our success, and the fate of Wendell and Dad and all the Kingdoms, to rest on the hope that you will find the right way."

Before Wolf could do more than whimper at this insult to his tracking skills, she leaned closer and lowered her voice to a whisper so that the Piper could not hear. "Besides...we don't dare leave him behind us...if he's with us we can keep an eye on him. And maybe, just maybe, we can help him out so he won't be a threat anymore."

The green irises she knew so well were filled with worry and stress, but also a recognition of the truth. She was right...and more to the point, she had made up her mind and he couldn't change it. Finally he offered her a rueful, pained smile. "You're such a soft touch, Virginia."

She chuckled at the old complaint and leaned against Wolf for support as she removed the Troll King's shoes. With a drunken stagger, she emerged from the magic as unsteady and muzzy-headed as ever, but as she put her hand to her head, Virginia found the craving to wear the shoes again that she had once given in to so easily was absent, or so miniscule she could brush it aside like a wisp of cobweb. Slowly she smiled to herself. If she had still doubted the changes her adventure had wrought in her, she could do so no longer.

Because she no longer had the desire to be invisible. Thanks to Wolf, and her own choice to be different from her mother, she had cast that shroud away to face the world, and love, with an open heart. Or as Snow White had put it, now she could see and be seen. The shoes had no power over her anymore.

Colin stood watching as Virginia became visible, and when she looked up with her smile of realization and self-worth, he smiled tentatively in return, and then held out his hand for the pipe. His smile faltered, however, when Wolf grinned back, showing his suddenly wolven canines.

"Very well, princey. You can have your pipe back. But I'll be watching you. And if you make one wrong move, play one wrong note, you'll find out why there are so many nasty stories about us wolfies...and you'll learn how to play your pipe with your tail."

The Piper blanched as he shakily took the pipe and put it to his lips again. Virginia glanced at Wolf in shock and amusement, but turned back at once as the music once more filled the air, accompanied by the argent light—but this time the music was completely different.

Gone was the compelling call, and in its place was a monotonous, staccato rhythm. In time with the notes came the grating of rock, and slowly, inexorably, the opening back to the ledge closed, sealing them in the mountain.

For a moment Virginia was certain Wolf had been right, and she had just sealed their fates. But as soon as the portal was closed, Colin smiled at her encouragingly, having recovered some of his composure. His voice, however, was decidedly quavering. "Well? What in the fairying forest are we waiting for? Let's be off!"

And with an extravagant flourish that sent his scarlet cloak billowing behind him, the Piper lifted his glowing pipe and played again, a yearning, plaintive melody, as if the instrument too were searching for the promised way out. When the light had steadied into a constant globe, he strode into the tunnel.

Virginia exchanged a long look with Wolf, who watched her stow the shoes back in the rucksack before taking her arm and leading her after their self-appointed guide.

* * *

The tunnel seemed to go on interminably, a rough-hewn passage festooned with calcified limestone formed over centuries of coursing rivulets of water. It was still dripping even now, the sharp, incessant tapping of splashing liquid seeming almost as loud as crashing boulders to Virginia's ears in the silence. And the darkness was as depthless as the vastness of outer space; even the globe of light from the Piper's pipe barely cut through the gloom, and in fact the contrast between light and dark seemed to make the blackness deeper and more foreboding. Several tunnels opened off to the side at regular intervals, all looking identical to Virginia. But the Piper chose their way unerringly, and she knew without him they would have been quite lost.

At last, after about an hour (as far as she could tell from her watch), the tunnel ahead began to vaguely lighten. Heartened, she and Wolf hurried after the Piper, who had quickened his darting steps. Soon the light grew to the brightness of the sun at dawn, spilling into the tunnel from around a bend. Turning the corner, they discovered another shaft leading away at an angle. It was from here that the light came—far ahead, they could see the circular egress from the mountain. And with it came the pounding sound of churning water.

Rushing forward without any further caution, the three travelers dashed down the new tunnel, the light brightening cheerfully and drawing them on, until finally they burst out of the cave mouth on a ledge overlooking a breathtaking sight. A mountain valley spread before them, narrow and V-shaped and filled with forests of pine, spruce, and fir climbing the slopes of the granite peaks, until they faded out at the tree line, where caps of pristine snow towered into the welkin. A massive waterfall spewed and foamed at the far side of the valley, pouring down the slopes and rushing madly into a wide river that raced downhill toward the distant forests of the Second Kingdom. The waterway followed the edges of a pass, barely visible through the trunks as it descended from a ledge somewhere just out of sight.

Spreading his arms to encompass the view, the Piper smiled and gestured theatrically at the landscape. "And here we are! Did I not tell you I would lead you truly? Yonder pass is the secret route to Red Riding Hood's Kingdom. By twilight we should be in the forest, with no one the wiser."

Virginia groaned under her breath; she was already sick of trees. Wolf only glared sullenly at the Piper's back, growling audibly. When she elbowed him forcefully, he turned and mouthed, "I could have found the way all by myself." Even though she suspected he might be right, she felt like throwing one of the magic shoes at him.

That thought reminded her of an explanation she needed to give. So as Colin led them along the ledge, winding around the valley's rim, and then disembarking from the descending path into the pass, Virginia quietly explained to Wolf how and where she had found the shoes. He did not seem too surprised, but he did act very concerned for her welfare—overly so. She supposed that was because he feared the return of her addiction, as she first had.

But she did not feel even a twinge, and proved it by offering to let him carry the shoes for the rest of the journey. When he was actually able to lay hands on the golden footwear without her so much as whining about their theft, let alone clutching them close, he was satisfied and let her keep them. The look he gave her was inordinately proud and pleased, and somehow his hug seemed more warm and loving than usual.

Virginia was proud of herself too.

For the rest of the afternoon the three travelers picked their way down the rock-strewn slopes, gripping stray roots and holding onto each other to stay upright, with Wolf flashing his golden irises at the Piper whenever he held onto Virginia a second too long or gave her a grateful look that seemed to be too emotional. Feeling rather like a leash holding back a furious Doberman from a trespasser, she was quite relieved when they finally reached the base of the mountain and passed into the forested foothills.

Just as the sun's golden disk hung over the boughs, as if suspended among them, the land leveled out and the forest enclosed them, flooding the air with the familiar woodsy fragrances. Virginia could see little difference from the trees of the Disenchanted Forest, except for the lack of crowding and looming, nebulous shadows, and the overabundance of conifers; otherwise she felt just as uneasy and worried, and if not for the demarcation of the mountains, she would not have known they had crossed a border.

A few yards into the forest, a path appeared, overgrown and barely visible in the gloom, its narrow length weaving around and under tree roots before splitting in two and vanishing from sight. There were no signposts, and nothing else to indicate which route to take; both were equally untraveled.

The Piper paused in the middle of the crossroads and peered along each path before turning to face them. "Well now, both directions appear equally safe, so—"

Wolf's snarl cut him off. "And what would you know about it, Princey? I should be the one leading and deciding where we go!"

Drawing himself up to his full height, the Piper looked down his nose at Wolf. "I will have you know I have crossed these mountains many times to hunt in the forest, so I have an excellent knowledge of the terrain."

Stalking with lithe grace, Wolf hunched his shoulders and approached the young man, skewering him with the full force of his blazing golden eyes. "And I'll have _you_ know that I have lived in this very forest for most of my life, so I know it far better than you ever will. Now are you going to step aside, and let me choose our path, or are you ready for that pipe lesson yet?"

Fingering his pipe nervously, Colin acquiesced, scurrying out of the way and lowering his gaze submissively as it is best to do around wolves. As Wolf crouched in the crossroads, sniffing the air, Virginia regarded him thoughtfully. She hadn't known that he lived in the Second Kingdom prior to serving time in prison; for some reason all his talk of shepherds and farmers had given her the impression the Fourth Kingdom had always been his home.

To know he had dwelt in the very den of the wolves' number-one enemy shed new light on his life, and on his reluctance to enter Riding Hood's realm.

It also reminded her pointedly that she really didn't know much of anything about Wolf's past. She had respected his privacy, not pushing to know more about him, both because of Wolf's discomfort whenever the subject came up, and because she herself wanted to be left alone quite often about her past. It would be sheer hypocrisy to ask questions of Wolf on the same subject she refused to let him probe.

But now that they were here, in a place so openly hostile to wolves, a place Wolf knew like the back of his hand, it was imperative she stop pussyfooting around. Knowing what happened to Wolf and his family wasn't important when they were settling into life in New York, but it might mean life or death when they were traveling through a Kingdom where at any moment someone could assault them with fire, axe, or crossbow. Fighting prejudice would be hard enough; if there were some dark, horrible crime she didn't know about...

Nodding decisively to himself, Wolf rose from his crouch and turned northward. "This way," he said simply, breaking Virginia from her reverie.

Even as she wondered what made that path the better one, the Piper frowned and put his hands on his hips. "Are you certain? That way lies Riding Hood's palace, the worst possible place for a wolf..."

Wolf scratched at his temple and snorted. "Every place in this infernal Kingdom is the worst place for a wolf. In any case, we must go north. That is the quickest way to get to the Sixth Kingdom. I don't want to stay here any longer than is necessary, so it is best that we take the shortest route. Going south would take us out of our way. Not to mention all the gingerbread cottages down there...we don't need to meet another witch."

Rolling his eyes, the Piper threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Oh, have it your way..."

As he turned away to stow his pipe in a leather satchel hanging from his shoulder, Wolf smirked. "I always do."

The three set off without further preamble along the chosen path. The Piper was whistling nervously, habitually twisting a large sapphire ring on his right hand as he walked. Wolf was eyeing him as if he longed to rip out his larynx, but Virginia sensed there was another source to his anger and discomfort. Being in the Second Kingdom probably had something to do with it...but was it more than simple fear at what would happen if one of Riding Hood's patrols discovered them?

Unobtrusively she slipped a hand in the pocket of her jeans, cradling the weight of Lord Rupert's signet ring. Surely that would take care of any problems with wayward soldiers—or even Red Riding Hood, should they encounter her, although Virginia had every intention of staying far away from the queen and she knew Wolf did too.

So what did they have to worry about?

Plenty, it seemed. Only a few yards farther, they entered a broad clearing that, despite its welcome openness and the late afternoon sunlight shining down through the canopy, seemed dark and menacing. Clutching her shoulders and shivering instinctively, Virginia tried not to imagine what could be lurking in the concealment of the shadows...and then Wolf let out a guttural cry that she had never heard before except during his cycle in Little Lamb Village. Turning to follow his gaze, she saw it then, at the same time the stench of death assailed her nostrils. Her gorge rose.

On the far side of the clearing, a wooden sign was nailed on the trunk of a tree, fashioned from redwood and bearing charred lettering, as if the words had been branded in. It read: DEATH TO ALL WOLVES! REMEMBER RED RIDING HOOD! Beneath it, crucified on the branches of the tree, was a rotting corpse, the remnants of its tattered clothing covered with rusty brown stains. The exposed bones seemed wrenched out of position, twisted and broken, as if frozen in the middle of some contorted transformation. But the canine skull made the body unmistakable.

As did the long gray tail.

Wolf howled in anguish, his nails turning to claws as he clenched his fists, but Virginia quickly grabbed his shoulder and dragged him away. At first he resisted, whirling to glare hatefully at her, but when he realized who she was, his eyes returned to their normal green and he suffered himself to be guided by her. In moments they were farther along the path, leaving the grisly scene behind.

As Wolf's breathing slowly subsided, the Piper bit his lip. "Well, that warning was clear enough."

"Yeah...and they'll only get worse as we go along." Wolf wiped trailing saliva from his mouth and glanced back over his shoulder, his hands still flexing as if he longed to rip the murderer of that wolf to shreds. Virginia stared at him in shock. How could they possibly get any worse? Yet she only feared that they would.

From that point on the three of them clustered protectively together in the middle of the path as they proceeded, peering furtively and fearfully at the encroaching darkness around them. Red Riding Hood Forest was becoming decidedly more ominous and frightening as the sun sank past the horizon and twilight settled into night. Virginia found herself listening avidly to every creak of a limb, every rustle of the underbrush, every animal grunt and moan, until she was certain that her ears had grown as large and pointed as a wolf's.

Wolf himself never stayed upright, always crouching and circling until she grew dizzy watching him, and his eyes never ceased glowing that brilliant gold. The Piper brought out his pipe again and started playing it softly to provide enough light to see by, as the clouded sky masked the gibbous moon and the few stars that had appeared.

Virginia would just as well have stayed in darkness, for the silvery light only extended the shadows and made the forest more eerie. It also bathed in stark relief the horrendous "markers" that appeared every five miles or so—and Wolf had been right, they only increased in cruelty and viciousness. The bodies of the wolves became fresher, riper, more bloody and mutilated, and the signs bore even more vindictive messages, like THE ONLY GOOD WOLF IS A DEAD WOLF! and A WOLF IS GUILTY UNTIL PROVEN INNOCENT!

Finally they came upon a body that, according to Wolf, had been dead only a matter of hours, with injuries calculated to ensure he would never father cubs. The accompanying sign was so vulgar Virginia had to look away at once. The Piper was deathly pale and Wolf...Wolf was snarling and whining constantly, his nails now drawing blood from his palms.

Hurriedly she grabbed his arm and dragged him from this clearing too, the _deja vu_ making her feel she had been forever propelling Wolf from one place to another. As they stumbled through the darkness, she could hear him muttering and mumbling under his breath and leaned close to hear him. "What did you say?"

"I'll kill her for this," he growled. "I'll kill her! It's been bad before, but huff-puff, nothing like this. I'll kill her!"

"Who?"

"Red!"

She stiffened and pulled back, horrified. "You don't mean Red Riding Hood?"

"Of course I do! How many other wolf-murdering trollop queens do you know?" Wolf ripped free of her hold and stalked ahead into the forest, swearing profusely and clawing unerringly at the tree trunks, not even having to look.

As she and the Piper silently followed the raging silhouette of Wolf along the path, Virginia could not help but shiver with fear. Never had she seen Wolf like this. Not since that first cycle of the moon in Little Lamb Village, and she knew that had been aggravated by her mother's influence. But it couldn't be the cycle now, Wolf had just finished it a week ago in New York.

No, this was something else...an anger and fury she had never seen before. She shuddered. She loved Wolf, and she could understand his emotions over seeing what had been done to others of his kind...but for the first time since she had allowed herself to trust him in the beanstalk forest, since she had opened her heart to him in Kissing Town...she was afraid of what he might do.

* * *

For the next several hours Virginia watched Wolf's back, her eyes on his swishing, twitching tail as if it would bite her. The night was now as black as the depths of an oubliette, the moon hidden behind roiling clouds that swept across the vaults of the sky.

That, plus the sharpness to the air and the tangy, loamy scents suggested a storm was brewing. Yet Wolf still continued onward, and Virginia was afraid to approach him about stopping for the night.

The Piper, wisely, had refrained from being his usual talkative self, instead playing his pipe without pause. In surprise she found that his company was currently more reassuring and comforting than Wolf's, and so was his tune, a gentle lullaby. She soon found herself humming along drowsily, her eyes half-closed as the need for sleep ached in her limbs. For a moment her mind sharpened, thinking perhaps the Piper was trying to lull her into a trance, but after a while she realized it was just the natural effect of all this strenuous traveling on her pregnant body: more simply put, she was tired.

On and on they trudged, Virginia practically walking in her sleep, only awakened now and then by moss-covered roots and uneven humps in the earth, tripping her up and causing her to stumble. Several times she cried out and almost fell, and each time it was the Piper who caught her and supported her. Wolf, several yards ahead and still alertly surveying the forest, did not even notice.

This, compared to his normally attentive and solicitous nature, told her more than anything that something was dreadfully wrong. She peered around at the murky, mist-filled woods, shivering and trying to maintain her poise, but it was becoming harder and harder as she imagined what awful fate could await them all, out there in the night...

Finally something changed. Ahead, in the distance beyond Wolf, light appeared through the trees, the flickering light of torches. As they drew nearer, it became brighter and spread to encompass a broad swath of the forest, larger and larger. Clearly some sort of habitation lay ahead, probably a village. With a peremptory growl, Wolf called a halt and they gathered around him in the middle of the path.

"There is a town ahead, Crookedtown," he whispered roughly. "We should stay there for the night."

Virginia frowned, not liking the sound of that name. "Is that the town where—?"

"Yes, yes!" Wolf snapped. "That's where the Crooked Old Man lived. But everyone there is crooked, nothing special about that. Except they're very very nasty and foul-tempered."

She liked the sound of that even less. "Are you sure it's safe?" she ventured, daring to contradict him.

Wolf rolled his eyes, which flared a blazing gold in the shadows, like twin suns. "Of course it isn't safe! But huff-puff, it's better than staying out here in the forest where any cocky young buck trying to bag his first wolf could put an arrow through us! If we avoid the town and sleep here, it'll seem suspicious—only wolves are safe in Red Riding Hood Forest at night." He sounded half-sarcastic and half deadly serious. "At least if we stay there they'll assume we're all human. No wolf would dare enter a village, they think."

"I would say that is an excellent suggestion," Colin volunteered agreeably. "I for one would appreciate a hot bath and a filling supper."

Wolf turned on him, snarling. "Who cares what you think, Piper-boy?"

Virginia placed a cautionary hand on Wolf's shoulder, and managed not to flinch when he whirled back to glare at her. "Wolf...calm down. He was agreeing with you. We can't go on if you're going to be fighting us like this...certainly not into a hostile village. I know you're upset about what we've seen. I am too. But you have to settle down...please. For me." She turned on all the appeal she could in her bright blue eyes.

Slowly Wolf relented, sighing and hanging his head like a dog who'd been struck by a rolled-up newspaper. He made that soft, sad whine that always broke her heart, then ducked down and wrapped his arm around her, rubbing his cheek against her shoulder and neck, nuzzling tenderly. "I'm so sorry, Virginia...it's just so hard for me to control myself around all these wolf-haters. But I'll try to behave for you, my creamy darling. I'll be a good wolfie."

They took a few moments to try and make themselves presentable, brushing off the dirt from their clothing, smoothing out the wrinkles, even combing their hair with a comb Virginia produced. There was nothing they could do about the Piper's torn raiment, but hopefully no one would notice. Wolf spent the most time freshening up, even going so far as to dash off the path to a small stream to wash the blood from his wounded hands and slick back his hair. She watched this with a mixture of amusement and wonder; Wolf had always been neat and fussy (when not in his cycle) but now he was almost as fastidious as Wendell. He certainly could turn on a dime.

When they were as ready as they could ever be, Wolf led the way onward, walking quite calmly and normally now, his tail carefully tucked out of sight. In a few minutes the forest opened out into a vast expanse of grassy field and hills. The moon had come out from behind the clouds for a moment and shone its silvery rays down upon pastures marked off by fences that zigzagged strangely across the fields in the distance.

Much nearer lay the village itself, and Virginia saw at once that it too was crooked—every building twisted and turned, angling back and forth, as if wrenched around by a passing tornado. Some were so off-kilter and precarious they looked ready to topple over, but amazingly none did. She didn't know if the people simply preferred crooked buildings because of their personalities, or if the architecture was a measure of practicality required to make crooked people's lives more comfortable.

Virginia could see the people now as they entered the village, only a few out and about in the streets of the hamlet at night, and those few scowled and glared about as they limped and shuffled toward their homes, though whether this was because they were searching for wolves or because of their pained backs was debatable. Not a few sharp looks were cast in their direction, and Virginia tried to return cheerful smiles to set the crooked people at their ease. She didn't think she was succeeding, if for no other reason than that smiles were foreign here.

Crookedtown was an otherwise normal village, its winding streets lit at each corner by gnarled wooden lampposts, surmounted by iron baskets of hessian soaked in oil. The flickering flames were somehow disconcerting, their shadows dancing on the faces of the houses as if hundreds of unseen imps cavorted in alleys and doorways. Virginia shrank back next to the Piper, feeling very uneasy.

Luckily Wolf seemed to know where he was going, and after leading them down several streets he brought them to a large, brightly-lit, clapboard inn, called of all things the Corkscrew Inn. But the name was fitting, since the building spiraled and angled into so many convoluted turns her tired eyes could not follow them. Several wagons and their teams were hitched before a door flanked by torches.

Throughout the trip into town the moon had gradually vanished again as the thunderheads built and swelled, and now the rain broke overhead just as they reached the inn door. In minutes they were soaked by the sheets of water blown by the rising wind. Wolf protected Virginia with his coat until they made it in through the door, and then barely stopped himself in time from shaking his drenched form like a dog. Dripping and shivering, Virginia waited as Wolf and the Piper found the coinage between them to pay for a night's stay at the desk, then rushed after them to get where there was a warm fireplace.

Inside the smoke-filled common room, Wolf found them a table in the back, away from the rest of the rowdy patrons. The innkeeper, a bald, leather-skinned man so severely crooked he could not walk except in a rocking, gyrating motion, slammed down three mugs of ale before them and then stomped away. Virginia sniffed hers, grimaced, and pushed it away; even if she'd been inclined to drink when pregnant, which she was not, it smelled awful. Colin did not seem particularly appreciative either, although he did drink.

Wolf, on the other hand, gulped it down as if it were water, which surprised her. She couldn't recall ever seeing him drink alcohol; she'd thought it was probably too pungent for his nose and too strong for his stomach.

Reaching out to squeeze his hand, she whispered, even though no one could hear her over the din even if she'd spoken normally. "Wolf...I thought you were going to behave." She looked around guardedly; countless eyes were upon them, watching in suspicion. She'd been afraid they would stand out like sore thumbs, since they weren't crooked like everyone else, but fortunately there were enough out-of-town visitors that they blended in somewhat. The Piper's garish outfit and her own Earth clothes did attract attention, however.

Wolf shrugged, taking another drink and then shakily setting down the mug. "I can't help it. I just can't get those wolves out of my mind. Any one of them could have been me, Virginia. If I hadn't met you..."

She sighed and fixed her eyes on the table, studying the cracks and stains in the wood without really seeing them. Outside, thunder rumbled. "Don't worry, Wolf...when this is all over, and we've found the dragon and stopped the Ice Queen and freed Wendell, I'm sure he'll do something to make sure no more wolves get killed."

Green eyes rested on hers with a level, steady stare. There were too many conditions in that statement, and in any case he knew as well as she did that Wendell had no power over the Second Kingdom. But all Wolf said was, "Sure."

About that time the innkeeper returned with three tattered menus, and the only talk revolved around what to order. After she and Colin asked for a hearty helping of mortress and Wolf ordered a rare steak with surprising restraint, they sat in an uncomfortable silence. The Piper nursed his ale and Wolf guzzled his, while Virginia stroked her belly absently.

When their food arrived, she set to it with a will, absolutely starving. It was not the most delicious stew she'd ever had, but it was certainly filling. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Wolf force himself to eat slowly and carefully, using a knife and fork.

Any other time she would have exploded with laughter at the sight, but now she was a nervous wreck. One wrong move, one growl, one bone stripped in seconds, and it would be over for them.

In, out, in, out. Mechanically she lifted her spoon and lowered it, not even tasting the stew anymore as she listened to the sound of the rain on the roof and waited for something to happen.

Suddenly it did—but it had nothing to do with them. On the far side of the common room, near the door, two burly men, muscled despite their crooked spines, half-rose from their seats, voices raised in intense argument. One clenched a huge fist in the other's face, and then he leaped toward his dinner companion. The innkeeper hurried forward as fast as his limp would allow, but as he yelled at the two men to take it outside, one threw a punch at him. The innkeeper flew back, tumbling across the floor as the man who sent him sailing pinned his real target to the table. Dishes fell and glasses shattered.

Virginia froze, eyes as wide as saucers as she took in the astonishing sight. She'd never been in a bar brawl, and this was too close for comfort. Turning to look at her companions, she saw the Piper had his hand in his satchel as if he intended to pull out his pipe and enchant the entire room. Wolf was already out of his seat, half-crouching, his eyes darting around in fear.

The door banged open, letting in the storm winds and making her whirl. The innkeeper had struggled to his feet and stood on the threshold, reaching out along the wall beside the jamb. His hand latched onto something and abruptly a bell began ringing.

Wolf whined. "Oh, cripes! He's summoning the garrison!"

All across the room, people began milling aimlessly, crushing and shoving toward the doors and the hallway back to the bedrooms, even climbing out the windows in their haste to escape. Wolf grabbed the Piper and Virginia and hauled them bodily away, just before a grossly fat man fell with a crash onto their table, breaking it in half. The shouting and insults were incredible, with even the innkeeper joining in. Someone threw a bottle that just missed Virginia's head, and she ducked, putting her hands over her ears. She wanted to scream at them all to shut up and act like civilized people, but instinctively she knew she would become the center of the fighting if she did.

They were moving toward the hallway when the sound of marching feet shook the steps outside. In moments two dozen soldiers burst into the inn, parting like waves on the sea to surround all the patrons. Gauntleted fists banged on burnished wet breastplates, and the room fell into a shocked and terrified silence. Even the two fighting men froze in place, fists upraised.

At once Virginia saw the soldiers were not crooked; they must not be local folk. In fact, she realized with horror, they had to be soldiers for the House of Red, for all of their armor was a bloody scarlet. So were the sheer rectangular surcoats that draped their chests and backs, their chain-mail hoods, and their enlarged pauldrons. Their stern faces, set in almost the same expression, completed the fearsome ensemble...yet Virginia could not help thinking they resembled nothing less than armored versions of the Queen of Hearts' pack of cards in _Alice in Wonderland._ Only she wasn't laughing.

"Who started this altercation?" the helmeted leader of the garrison demanded.

The innkeeper pointed firmly at the two who were responsible, while several patrons added their own shaky accusations. At once four of the guards moved to the wreckage of the table and hauled the two men up without even a grunt of exertion. As they dragged the brawlers away, the garrison commander turned his haughty gaze around the common room.

Noting the fallen fat man, and several other smaller fights that had begun in the frightened flight, he frowned. "I wish to know the names of all present here. Others are also responsible for the disturbance of the peace this night, and all of you may be called upon as witnesses."

As the spectators grumbled and moved forward reluctantly to give their names, Wolf snatched Virginia's wrist again and pulled her back slowly and carefully into the crowd.

Trying to keep as many people as possible between them and the soldiers, he kept his face turned firmly away. The three of them had almost made it to the hallway when one of the soldiers noticed them. "You there! Where do you think you're going?"

Virginia closed her eyes.

But it did no good; the soldiers were already thrusting people aside to reach them. As she opened her eyes, she found herself staring up at a heavily muscled man with flame-red hair—the garrison commander. He glared belligerently from her to Colin, then to Wolf, who still had his face turned away and ducked low. "Why are you trying to hide..."

The soldier grabbed Wolf's shoulder and wheeled him around, wrenching his chin up so he could see his face. His expression changed from suspicion to recognition, then smug satisfaction. "Well look who we have here, boys..."

Virginia tried to keep Wolf by her side, but only succeeded in having herself and the Piper pulled out into the middle of the room with him. Abruptly all eyes were on them, even more unfriendly and cruel than before. Yet the commander had her full attention, for he was lifting Wolf bodily off his feet, shaking him in the air.

While Wolf growled and struggled, the soldier reached into a pouch he carried at his waist and removed a rolled piece of parchment. Unrolling it, he displayed a skillfully rendered drawing to the room. The likeness to Wolf's face was uncanny.

"We've been looking for you for a long time. We have an outstanding warrant for you...and the fact that you've been hiding in the Fourth Kingdom doesn't save you." The commander curled his lip in contempt, then waved at Virginia and the Piper. "Arrest them all."

Jaw hanging, Virginia wrenched her arms futilely against the suddenly iron-hard grips, and she saw Colin fighting similarly. Even as manacles were brought forward to be slapped around her wrists, she protested, "What are you talking about? What has he done? What have _we_ done?"

A deep, amused chuckle was her answer. "I have no idea what you've done...but I'm certain it cannot be any good, since you were here in the company of this...wolf." The commander's last word was spoken with twisted lips and curled tongue, as if he were uttering the worst of epithets while sucking on something sour.

If Virginia had thought the silence of the inn was profound before, it was even more so now. She trembled uncontrollably, losing all her self-control, as she saw the murderous stares from every person in the inn.

"As to what he did...you will find out soon enough, assuming you don't already know." The commander drew himself up to his full height and smiled coldly. The ominous thunder rumbling outside and the lightning flashing at the windows seemed to punctuate his words. "Because you are all coming with us to the palace to meet Her Majesty, Queen Riding Hood III...where this wolf will answer to the charge of high treason to the crown."


	6. Five: Shadows of the Past

**Five**: Shadows of the Past

Leaning forward against the bars of the prison wagon, Wolf closed his eyes and whimpered softly, piteously, feeling the weight of resignation to his fate as surely as he did the weight of the enormous iron chains linking the manacles on his wrists and ankles. It was over. It was truly over. Wendell and Tony were doomed, and he and Virginia would never escape, not now that they were being taken to Red. She would sink her claws into them deeper than any wolf could, and never let go. Why did he ever think they could pass through the Second Kingdom unscathed?

Shaking his head, he looked up morosely at the slate-gray morning sky, still filled with the ugly churning masses of rainclouds. Its color and chaotic state reflected his mood perfectly, and the chill drizzle falling onto his upturned face could not be any colder than the fear that gripped his heart. Not even in Snow White Memorial Prison had he felt such despair and pain, because then he had not had anything to live for, any reason to enjoy life.

He had not known Virginia, or her love.

The wagon struck a deep rut in the surface of the soupy mud that passed for a road, and Wolf was thrown forward against the bars, nearly knocking out his front teeth. As it was he did receive a sharp blow to the head that blurred his vision and made everything suffused by a hazy white light for several minutes. Feeling the onset of a headache, he put a hand to his forehead and whimpered again, then looked back behind him.

Virginia lay curled up on the moldy, urine-soaked straw on the floor of the wagon, his coat pulled over her in a futile attempt at warmth. She was gripping the planks until splinters stabbed into her hands so as not to be thrown about as he had been. Behind her, the Piper sat in the far corner with his knees drawn up before his chin, a furious and sullen expression on his aristocratic face. Although Wolf despised the prince and hated in particular being imprisoned with him, he understood how he felt—helpless.

And so they were. None of his wolfly skills or strengths could free them, and they had been searched back at the jail in Crookedtown and divested of all their belongings, including the Troll King's magic shoes and the Piper's pipe. There was no way to avoid the confrontation to come...or the inevitable conclusion. But what could he expect? The days of Happy Ever After were gone, and in any case wolves had never been the good guys in any of the old tales.

Did he really think he, one lone wolf, could change centuries of prejudice and hatred all by himself? he thought bitterly. Wendell's pardon notwithstanding, there was simply too great an inertia against change, and it was embodied in Red Riding Hood III. She would never change, none of the Hoods would. Their fate was sealed.

Huff-puff.

Thoughts of the queen, and of the jail where they had been incarcerated until dawn, reminded Wolf of the terrible conditions they had been kept in—and what Virginia had asked him. He had been shivering on the cold stone floor only a few feet from the sump, and trying simultaneously to mask his trembling and ignore the awful stench nearby, when Virginia had called out to him from the bunk he had insisted she take (seeing as His Insufferable Highness had claimed the only other bunk already).

"Wolf?"

"Hmmm?"

"When are you going to tell me why Red Riding Hood wants you so badly?"

He'd stayed still for a long time, hoping she would think he had fallen asleep. But when she reached out and shook his shoulder gently, he'd turned and shook his head, lowering his eyes. "Not now. I don't want to talk about it, not yet." _Maybe not ever._ "I'm trying to think of a plan of escape...and I'll need my sleep for tomorrow."

She hadn't been convinced—after all, what sort of escape could even his cunning mind come up with on such short notice, and with so little to work with?—and she'd known he was upset and trying to hide it, but she'd relented, giving him his space. She was always doing that, and it made his heart melt how truly considerate she was. It also made him feel guilty. With all she had done for him, and the love she showed him, didn't he owe her at least this much?

But no, the pain was too great, he couldn't bring himself to share the true story of his past and the awful events that had scarred him for life.

Another jolt of the wagon brought Wolf back to the present, and he realized he'd been staring at Virginia the entire time. Now she was looking up at him questioningly. "What were you just thinking about?"

"Nothing," he answered quickly and then looked away, gripping the bars as he gazed dismally out through the rain at the forest trundling by.

She wasn't buying it; she knew him too well. "Wolf...what's wrong? Does this have to do with what you won't tell me?" She crossed her arms over her chest, making her chains rattle, and narrowed her eyes.

Wolf growled under his breath, but he knew there would be no deflecting her this time. He didn't have the excuse of sleep, and they would be stuck together for the long trip to the palace. He wouldn't be able to get away from her insistent voice and demanding eyes; eventually she would break down his will. It would be better to tell her now, because like it or not the danger they all faced made it necessary for her to know the truth, and she would benefit more from the knowledge the sooner she received it.

Besides, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that several of the scarlet-garbed soldiers riding as escort for the wagon had drawn their horses close, listening. If he refused Virginia now, it would seem he had something to hide and further cement their hatred. Plus, he wouldn't put it past their captors to tell Virginia the story themselves out of spite—and he would much rather she hear his version than theirs.

Sighing, he finally gave in. Leaving the front of the wagon, he shuffled back to sit between Virginia and the Piper, folding his legs before him and shifting to get comfortable, or as comfortable as he could get when manacled and chained. This would take a while, for it was a long and cruel story, one filled with jealousy, betrayal, death, shattered hope, and unrequited love. In short it was a tragedy, and one that left him very vulnerable, seeing as he was a major player in it, and had such strong feelings for the others involved.

Bending forward and taking Virginia's hands in his, he lowered his voice to a whisper so that the soldiers would not hear. "Do you know the story of Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf?"

Virginia nodded slowly.

"Good, then I don't have to waste time retelling it." Wolf scratched at his temple distractedly and fixed his gaze on the rotten planks beneath his feet before he bit his lip and began.

"Well, remember when I told you us wolfies only pretend to do naughty things?" When she nodded again, he said, "The Big Bad Wolf, or Old Grey as he's sometimes called, was one of the few wolves who didn't just pretend. I make no apologies for him...he was an evil, nasty, vicious beast, very cunning and sly. I don't know if he just hated humans, or if he was overly hungry that day. But whatever the reason, he did everything he is accused of doing. That part of the tale is completely true."

It hurt a great deal to admit that, since it would only help foster the stereotype of wolves and ingrain the hatred, but he had to be honest with Virginia. And anyway, by the time he was done relating his past, certain humans would look much worse in comparison.

"Red Riding Hood was a very lovely little girl, strong-willed and determined, and when she grew up and married the son of the woodsman who had saved her, she did all in her power to protect other little girls and make sure no wolf could ever do such a terrible thing again. She entered politics, giving speeches and calling for laws to control the wolves. She founded a woods awareness center that saved many young girls and put a stop to wolf attacks. In gratitude the people chose her as their new queen."

Virginia stirred, frowning in puzzlement. "Wow...um, I know how this'll sound, but I never thought I'd hear a wolf speak so highly of Red Riding Hood."

Wolf had been expecting this. Shrugging, he smiled a little. "Well, she was one of the Five Women Who Changed History. She was very brave, and worthy of respect, and she did do a great service to the Kingdoms, reining in the dangerous wolves and protecting the people. But, I am sorry to say, despite her ordeal with her grandmother, she remained quite naive. She had no clue how many ramifications there would be of her actions. She was so innocent that she did not understand the true hatred that can exist in human hearts.

"As queen she passed laws to ensure wolves would curb their excesses...but she only had experience with one, a wolf the rest of the species had outcast. She did not know of the nobility and honor common to most wolves. Still, matters would have worked out if not for the people, who treated all wolves the same and hated them with a passion. By her laws and programs Red Riding Hood meant only to protect...but the people twisted them, turning them into instruments of prejudice and malice.

"It became great sport to hunt down wolves, to accuse them of crimes just for the excuse to humiliate and torture the 'beasts', as well as to gain rewards for it—all under the aegis of the throne, to 'keep the realm safe'." He clenched his fists and snarled softly.

"And Red Riding Hood did not help matters by raising her daughter Scarlett to mistrust and avoid wolves. She was only attempting to protect her, to keep her from harm, but instead she instilled a sense of fear and loathing—and superiority as well. That was only increased when she met Old Grey's son, Darren."

The Piper, who had been listening silently, finally ventured to ask a question. "So he was like his father, was he?"

Wolf nodded glumly. "I'm afraid so...Old Grey's mate had a heart filled with bitterness and revenge, so she raised the cub to hate Red Riding Hood and all her family. She never admitted the truth to him, praising his father without saying the evil he had done. Red Riding Hood was described as an ignorant peasant girl in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Darren fully believed any danger that threatened her she brought on herself.

"He waited until he was grown to seek revenge, shadowing the trail of the queen's carriage through the forest. When young Scarlett wandered off on her own to pick flowers, he struck, attempting to kidnap and murder the child. Luckily her father the king was still a good hand with an axe and gave chase, rescuing his daughter and chopping off one of Darren's paws. But as a result, Scarlett came to fear and hate wolves more than ever.

"And she would come to pass that feeling on to her eldest daughter...Carmine, Red Riding Hood III."

Virginia tensed up, eyes wide and uncertain. "Okay...that explains why she hates wolves. But why is she after you specifically? What does this have to do with you?"

Wolf winced; he wished she weren't so direct and astute sometimes. Sighing, he clasped his hands and flexed his fingers nervously. This was where things started getting painful.

"After he failed to kill Scarlett, Darren went into hiding to lick his wounds. His young mate was with cub, and he realized that the only course for him now was to raise another generation. So he focused all his time on bringing up a large family.

"The years passed. Scarlett grew up, married a prince, and had two daughters, Carmine and Cerise. Around the same time Darren had his tenth cub and sixth son, who he named Duncan. Busy honing his elder sons into weapons against the House of Red, he left Duncan's upbringing to his mate...but she instilled peace, gentleness, and acceptance in the cub. By the time he was sixteen he was the complete opposite of his grandfather, a wolf to make all wolves proud.

"And he was determined to put an end to the hatred and violence his father was so eager to continue. He was a true hero...one whose life would make sure the Kingdoms would never be the same. He deserved a medal. He could have earned a pardon for all wolves easily..." Wolf trailed off, his voice so thick with emotion it almost broke.

The gentle touch on his arm attracted his attention. Virginia was looking at him with teary eyes, shining with understanding and love. "He was your father, wasn't he?"

Not trusting himself to speak, Wolf nodded, emitting a soft whine of pain. Even now he could still see his father's handsome face...recall his warm, musky scent as he held him to his chest and growled contentedly...hear his deep, rich voice telling pack tales and the wild, irresistible howl beneath the moon that told a tale of its own. How he loved Duncan.

How he missed him. And how he wished the honor he had received, that should have been his father's, had come when he could witness it.

After a long time, during which the only sounds were the creaking of the wagon wheels, the nickering of a horse, the chirping of a wren, and Wolf's whimpers, Virginia slid over by his side and gave him a quick hug. "I'm sure he was a wonderful wolf, if he was your father." Her words were so sincere they made him blush with embarrassment. "And what about your mother? Was she beautiful?"

"Oh yes!" Wolf cried enthusiastically. "Creamy skin, hair as golden as any straw spun by Rumpelstiltskin, eyes as blue as the sea, lips as red as Snow White's...she was the most beautiful mother a wolf could have, even though she wasn't our kind..." Her image seemed to hover before his mind's eye, and he could swear it was possible to reach out and touch her.

"What was her name?"

He froze, then turned slowly to look at Virginia. What would she say when she learned the truth? Swallowing hard, he said, "Cerise."

Now it was Virginia's turn to go still. Eyes as round and white as the full moon (no, that was a bad thought!), she tried to speak, her throat working silently, until at last she managed to stutter. "Wh-what? Cerise...th-the same...the one you said was the queen's sister...but that means you're...?"

The Piper finished her sentence for her. "A prince." Recognition of the truth dawned on his young face. "You are a wolf-prince...of the House of Red."

Wolf flushed at his bluntness. "Well yeah, technically. But you know they'd never accept me. And I wouldn't want to go within five miles of them! So as far as anyone's concerned, I have no connection to royalty." He nodded firmly, a snarl twisting his lips at the thought of having anything in common with those vindictive wolf-butchers.

Virginia put a hand to her temple, looking a tad woozy. Apparently this had been even more of a shock for her than he'd expected it to be. He ran his gaze over her face searchingly, but when she finally recovered her composure, she managed a small, wry smile. "Well...I always knew you were my Prince Charming."

Fighting to control his laughter at this gross exaggeration—when they'd first met she'd hit him with a vase and knocked him out a window, for goodness' sake!—Wolf smirked and reached out shakily to squeeze her hand. "I suppose so. After my multiple savings of your life, Virginia, I think I am entitled to that position."

Colin eyed him shrewdly, then sniffed disdainfully. "How unfortunate that you cannot rescue us now."

Narrowed golden eyes and a fearsome growl silenced the Piper, but before Wolf could give voice to his threat, Virginia laid a hand on his arm. "We're getting off track here. I want to know how your parents met. Surely it happened in secret...the queen would never have allowed it." Sobering, she lowered her lashes. "I guess that's why she hates you so much and wants you dead."

_Oh, if only you knew, Virginia. It's so much more than that._ But he didn't say this aloud, knowing that as the tale progressed, she would learn everything soon enough. "Partly, my love, partly. And yes, my father and mother did meet by chance. She was on a summer excursion to the royal cabin in the deep forest, going horseback riding, and on a lonely path her horse threw her and galloped off. Alone, hungry, and tired, she traveled all afternoon but ended up going in circles, becoming quite lost. And then, as night fell, she was attacked by a bear and would have died—if Duncan had not saved her."

Virginia cocked an eyebrow skeptically. "In his wolf form, you mean? Didn't that frighten her?"

"Oh, to be sure—at least at first. But after he changed to his human form, she realized she owed him her life and the least she could do was show proper gratitude. Plus, being an independent sort, she was most curious about wolves, wishing to find out if they were as awful as she had been told." Wolf smirked in spite of himself. "She learned that wolves are indeed awful...awful flirts."

The Piper rolled his eyes and looked away, pretending to study the dark angled trunks of the trees crowding closely along the roadway. Wolf sneered at him.

Virginia, meanwhile, was chuckling. "I see. They must have hit it off very well then."

Wolf nodded, a trifle embarrassed now. "They certainly did." He paused, gathering his thoughts as he realized certain truths about his parents he'd never really contemplated before, seeing as he usually avoided thinking about them too closely. "I know you must think a princess and a wolf must not have very much in common, but you'd be surprised. Both of them knew what it was like to be set aside from the rest of society—Cerise high on a pedestal, Duncan down in the dungeon.

"And even though they each had their family, both felt all alone. Scarlett and Carmine were always caught up in the intricacies of the throne and their growing hatred of wolves, while Darren and his elder sons were similarly bent on revenge against the House of Red. None of them had any time for what was really important...love and family." He sighed. "Go for the simple things in life."

Half-joking and half-serious, Virginia elbowed him gently. "Is that from one of your self-help books?"

Pretending to be mortally offended, he shook his head vehemently. "Certainly not! It's my own philosophy."

Colin rested his chin on his knuckles in a pensive pose and nodded slightly. "And strangely enough, I agree with it. If I had stayed true to the simple things in life, I would not have ended up where I have...alone and unloved."

Wolf almost had to bite his tongue to keep from responding with a scathing remark, seeing as the Piper's bemoaning of his fate was becoming decidedly infuriating, and it hadn't been very attractive to begin with! But he nodded in return. "Yes...but we are getting off the point. Suffice it to say that my parents spent the rest of that summer together and fell deeply in love. By the time Duncan learned who she was, it didn't matter to him. He wanted nothing but to spend the rest of his life with Cerise, and she with him. Each had learned that blood meant nothing, that love supersedes such petty concerns. They belonged together."

His voice had become soft and tender and he whimpered almost inaudibly to himself, wishing futilely that the world was fair to wolves, that Happy Ever After could have been possible for his parents. Virginia rested her hand on his and squeezed it, and he returned the favor, not wanting to let go. At least he had his creamy love...and no matter what happened, they would always have each other.

"When the time came to part, Duncan did not wish to. In fact, he saw this as the perfect opportunity to end the feud and hatred between the two families, to join humans and wolves together. But Cerise wanted to keep their love a secret, for she knew that her sister and mother would never accept it. She promised to return to him, after she had seen to her affairs back at the palace." Wolf made a face. "Unfortunately, when she got back, she found out a plague had struck the Kingdom, and her mother had been one of the victims of it. Carmine was now Red Riding Hood III.

"And one of her first actions as queen was to rule that any wolf accused of a crime was automatically guilty. Wolves had to carry permits to travel anywhere without falling under suspicion, and even the slightest irregularity was grounds for imprisonment or worse. The old laws of Red Riding Hood meant to protect humans were now being used to persecute wolves." He shook his head regretfully.

"Carmine was so unlike her grandmother...as different as night and day. The same way Duncan was nothing like Old Grey. It was almost as if the passage of time had altered the families over the generations...reversed where the seed of evil lay." Wolf paused again; that was a very profound thought, one he'd never contemplated before. "Or maybe interacting with Old Grey corrupted the House of Red."

The Piper snorted. "On the contrary, I would say they did a fine job of corrupting themselves."

For a moment Wolf allowed himself to feel a flash of gratitude toward the haughty prince. Then he quickly concealed it with a scowl. "Most likely so. But in any case, Cerise knew her sister would never listen to her pleas for clemency for wolves. And to complicate matters, a month after her return from the forest she began feeling nauseous and had unusual cravings for meat. She consulted secretly with a midwife and discovered she was pregnant."

He rested his forehead on his palm, trying to combat the sense of despair that welled up inside him. "She should have felt nothing but joy...but one of Carmine's laws was that all half-wolven offspring were to be aborted or 'put out of their misery' after birth for being mongrels. So my mother resolved to sneak off in the dead of night, with only the barest of necessities, and live with Duncan in the forest. She never truly liked the riches of royalty, and she had a great love for nature, so this was no discomfiture for her. And it was all worth it to save my life, she said." Even as he said the words, Wolf did not believe them. He hated being the cause of his mother losing the only life she had ever known, even after all these years.

Virginia's face was a mask of fury. When her voice came out, it was in a hiss. "How dare she murder helpless babies and try to justify it like that? It's people like that that make me think we should outlaw abortion. No woman should ever want to kill a baby." Slowly her face softened, and she lowered her voice. "But your mother was right, and I'm so glad she wanted to save you...I don't know what I'd do without you. To think you might never have been born..."

Wolf frowned worriedly. Once again he hadn't thought of Virginia and her feelings, only his own. He hadn't realized this would have such an effect on her, but he hadn't even thought of her mother. After being abandoned and nearly killed by the Queen three times, Virginia would of course hate the idea of the half-wolf infant massacre. Huff-puff, it would be like her mother's actions multiplied a thousand times over! And having him be a target, not to mention her own baby now that they were prisoners of the queen...

"Oh, cripes!" He scratched at his temple furiously and then wrenched at his hair. He hadn't even thought of that! Their cub was now in danger...they should never have come here!

"What?" Virginia apparently hadn't followed the train of thought to its logical conclusion, but she was upset by his reaction. She pressed her hand to his cheek and stroked it, her eyes filled with concern and fear.

"Nothing. It's nothing, Virginia." He placed his hand over hers and squeezed it, then pulled it free and rested it on his knee. "Let me go on with the story, or I'll never finish."

Virginia rather looked as if she no longer wanted to hear how it would end, but now that he had started he intended to tell it all. And he wasn't about to upset her even more by telling her what had him so worried, not in her condition.

"Where was I? Oh yes! Mother left a note telling Carmine that she was going to stay in the royal cabin for a while, that there were too many memories of their mother at the palace and she needed time to herself. Then she left the palace with the help of a few loyal guards, and paid the watchmen at the gate to look the other way. Once she was reunited with Duncan, they built a small cabin of their own, far from prying eyes, and made a home together. They had a private mateship ceremony and lived there in peace until my birth."

"Oh yes!" Virginia perked up at this and smiled winsomely. "That reminds me, there's something I've always wanted to ask you. Why did your parents name you Wolf?"

Wolf blinked in surprise; he hadn't realized Virginia had been curious about that, she'd never said a word. As far as he knew, she'd assumed that his name was a tradition among wolves, that wolves had no true names, and he had let her believe this because it was easier than getting into his tragic past. But now he had no reason not to tell her.

"Oh, that!" He tried to wave it aside as inconsequential. "It's very simple, Virginia. When I was older my parents explained it to me. My father wanted me to always know of my heritage and be proud of it, and my mother always said that I represented what was most noble and good about wolves, because I had joined two warring houses by my birth. So, they agreed to name me Wolf because that's who I am and what I am." He hung his head, whining softly. Guilt flooded his heart—guilt for not living up to his parents' expectations until now, guilt for turning into exactly the kind of wolf stereotypes that his parents had been fighting against. "They had such high hopes for me..."

Virginia leaned in close and kissed him on the cheek. "And they were right to, Wolf. I'm sure they're very proud of you...after all you've done, saving the Nine Kingdoms, you've proven that being a wolf is not a curse, it's an honor."

Colin gasped, almost lurching to his feet as he reached forward to clutch her arm. "What's this? Are you telling me, milady, that you are Virginia the Fair? That your companion is _the_ Wolf? That I am currently in the company of two of the heroes of whom my bards have sung?" His expression was stricken.

A mixture of amusement and amazement appeared on Virginia's face. "I guess so. We did help save Wendell, yeah, but I didn't realize we'd become so famous already!"

"Indeed, you have! I am deeply honored...and more determined than ever to compensate for delaying your momentous quest!" The Piper bowed as well as he was able while sitting down and kissed the back of her hand chastely. Knowing his creamy darling so very well, Wolf knew that Virginia was deeply embarrassed by being the center of attention. Her demure attitude, the way she averted her eyes, her noncommittal reply, they all gave it away.

Before he could pointedly suggest that now the Piper was delaying his tale, and that their quest was already irrevocably ruined, the wagon ran over another rut and jolted them all violently. Suddenly he found himself cradling Virginia, who had tumbled into his lap.

Never before had he been thankful for terrible road conditions. He smiled down at her and wrapped his arms around her waist, ignoring the rattle of the ponderous chains. It felt so good to hold her close, to seek refuge from the past in the present. Despite the imminent peril toward which they were borne by every turn of a wagon wheel, he suddenly felt a deep satisfaction. At least, for the nonce, they were facing the future together.

"Look!" The Piper was pointing ahead. When Wolf turned to look, he saw that the forest was thinning, and farmfields were becoming visible through the trees. The Red Riding Hood Forest was coming to an end, and they were leaving the darkness to enter the light, albeit that of a gloomy, overcast day.

Wolf quickly sat up and settled Virginia back in place. It wouldn't be long now before they started passing through towns, where the citizens would be eager to harangue and mob the wagon, so he had better wrap up the story as quickly as possible. "Anyway...to make a long story short..."

"Yeah, what happened after you were born?" Virginia asked. "The queen couldn't have thought her sister was living at the cabin all that time."

He snorted. "Don't be too sure, Virginia. Carmine is such a selfish person, spoiled rotten as a child, absorbed in her own life and the way she thinks the world should be, that she barely even noticed Cerise was gone. She might never have learned the truth if one of her advisers hadn't suggested sending someone to check on her sister. When the messenger returned bearing the startling news of her disappearance, the queen finally went into a panic, sending proclamations across the land—everything from rewards for information as to her whereabouts to personal letters begging Cerise to return.

"My mother realized she had to come forward. She couldn't put my father and me at risk, and she hated seeing her sister so distraught and worried. Again Duncan insisted she tell the truth and proclaim her love for him to end the hate and division, and this time my mother agreed. More, I think, because she knew she could not hide my existence forever, or continually invent excuses to leave the palace and live with us, than because she thought it would do any good. So she went home and confronted her sister."

Virginia crossed her arms and sighed. "I don't suppose that went very well."

What an understatement! "No, it didn't. They ended up in a screaming match—my mother begging Carmine to understand and be happy for her, and the queen calling her every vile name in the book as she berated her stupidity for being seduced by a beast." Wolf clenched his fists, not for the first time wishing he could have been there to rip Red's foul tongue out. "My mother later told me she thought it was more than just hatred for wolves that motivated her sister. It was jealousy. She couldn't stand to see Cerise happy and in love when it was in a life she had no part in creating.

"She was infuriated that a princess of the House of Red would stoop so low as to couple with a wolf, but in reality it infuriated her more that Cerise was free of royal obligations, that she had escaped the trap Carmine herself had fallen into and made a real life for herself. The fact that my mother had a wolven husband only drove the point home, that while Red Riding Hood III had to marry for the good of the Kingdom, for political expediency, the independent Cerise could choose a husband she actually loved.

"Carmine hated wolves more than ever now—because they seemed to symbolize everything she could not have. She ordered that my mother be imprisoned in the tower until she came to her senses and married a prince like a sensible Hood should, and to protect her from any further ravishing."

A vicious growl came from Virginia's direction, and she snapped, "Suddenly I find myself hating this queen, and I've never even met her! Please tell me your mother got rescued."

Wolf smirked. "Of course she did. Duncan grew very worried when she did not return as expected, and then he heard the rumors at the tavern in the nearest village, that Princess Cerise had been cloistered for her own safety. Immediately he gathered several of his brothers and they set off for Incarnadine, the capital city. Disguising themselves as gardeners, they took employment at the palace, and as soon as night fell, they slipped up to the tower, knocked out the guards, and freed my mother. Then they hid her in a wheelbarrow and took her right out of the city."

"Where did they go then?"

"To my Aunt Celia's." Wolf smiled fondly. He still remembered the smells of all the herbs she had kept in her kitchen, for spices and for medicines—she was a midwife. And her laugh, he could still hear it, warm and throaty and with a delight for life. She, at least, was not dead, but he had not seen her for years, not since before his imprisonment. And he was unlikely to see her again now. "Duncan knew they could not return home, it was too dangerous, someone might recognize Cerise. So he took her to his sister, who lived in a remote farming village, where people would be unlikely to know the youngest princess.

"He asked his brothers to leave evidence far away from there to create a false trail in the forest—but they went too far, leaving swatches of one of her dresses, soaked with boar's blood, to suggest she had been killed. They assumed it would put an end to any long-term search. And it did, but it also made the soldiers think that Cerise had been kidnapped and murdered by wolves—who else would commit such a horrible crime, after all?" He rolled his eyes. "The search was called off, but in retaliation Carmine ordered the slaughter of hundreds of wolves all across the Kingdom, until her sister's murderers were brought to justice."

Virginia went still. "Oh my God. Genocide? Is there nothing this woman won't do?"

Wolf shook his head slowly. "She will do anything to get her own way, Virginia. She's capable of anything. And her decree had another tragic turn. My grandfather, up to this point, had not known who Duncan's mate was. When he found out Cerise was a member of the hated House of Red, that his sons had put their lives on the line and now wolves were dying all for her, he was so enraged he tracked down my father and had it out with him. Duncan was disowned, driven from the pack...and then Darren threatened to return Cerise to the palace so that the killing would end.

"Duncan wanted the slaughter to stop, too, but not at the expense of his mate. So...he fought his father, and ended up killing him." His tone was somber, monotonous, as he recalled the years of his cubhood, watching his father when the wolf thought he was alone, crying bitterly and staring into the fireplace as he thought of the blood that would forever stain his claws.

Aghast, Virginia took his hands in hers and kissed them. "Oh, Wolf, I had no idea. That must have been awful for your father."

He nodded wordlessly, holding onto her hands as if she were the only thing keeping him from sinking through the bottom of the wagon. "It was. But luckily he had my mother, and his sister, to support him. Celia refused to abandon him, even though their brothers upheld the disownment. But to protect my aunt, and themselves, they kept the secret of Cerise's location. So eventually the queen grew tired of gutting wolves, knowing it would not bring her sister back or flush out her killers.

"The Kingdom settled into an uneasy peace, with the wolves too afraid to protest what had happened. My mother cut her hair and changed its color with berry juice, and she threw out all her fancy clothes, becoming a peasant. And, she said, she was never happier." Leaning against the barred side of the wagon, Wolf cleared his throat, wishing for a drink; he'd been talking far too long. But he was not about to ask one of the guards for one. They'd probably throw it in his face, or spit in it, or any number of other nasty possibilities.

"The years passed quietly after that for a while. I grew up and went to school with the other children, always making sure to keep my tail hidden. My father became a farmer—the opportunity it provided to eat some of his own livestock when meat was scarce was just too good a cover to pass up—and my mother became a seamstress, since she had learned needlework at the palace. It was a very normal and bucolic life. And I was never lonely because my aunt and uncle had cubs of their own, so there was always someone to play with.

"There was always someone around to teach us cubs all about what it means to be a wolf, too. The clans and packs, the scents and honor-codes, the hierarchy and hunts. And of course the Change. But my mother was right there in the thick of things, learning with us. I seem to recall she spent a lot of time with my aunt and uncle, taking lessons on how to be a wolf and what she would have to deal with as a mother of half-wolves. That's why she always took my cousins and me out to look at the moon. I thought she was obsessed, but really she was trying to understand its power over us."

Wolf closed his eyes and listened to the creaking of the wagon and the jingling of the horses' traces, hearing in them his father's wagon on trips to the market. Sniffing the rain-soaked air, he vividly pictured the idyllic forests near their home, the leaves and the underbrush laden with dew and concealing countless small game. And as his stomach growled fiercely, he remembered the sensational dinners his aunt had cooked, and later his mother after she acquired the fine art of preparing meats. He felt tears slide down his cheeks as he fought a wave of homesickness.

Back in New York, after he met Virginia, he had angrily told Dr. Horovitz that his parents were both enormous, and always pressing him to eat everything in sight, but he had been desperate to find someone to blame for his problems. His self-help books called it "redirection". What he'd told Dr. Horovitz was exaggeration. In reality he'd had a very happy cubhood, with parents who were quite normal in size, if possessing healthy appetites. And while he had always been encouraged to eat a great deal to feed his growing wolf body, his fixation on food had not come until later. After degenerating from his human self. After being alone for so long, living on his own.

After his parents had died.

Wiping the tears away with a violent movement, he opened his eyes and bit his lip. It was time to tell Virginia now, to reveal the final horror. Turning back to her, he saw she had been waiting patiently for him to continue. Shrugging apologetically, he swallowed several times to moisten his throat and mouth. "Well...what can I say, Virginia? I guess all that's left is how my parents died."

She stiffened and moved to his side again, encircling his chest and holding him close against her. "Take your time, hon. I'm here with you."

He nodded morosely. "It all started innocently enough...when I was about eleven or twelve. I had just started the Change, and at that time I was fascinated with it, I thought it was the most amazing and wonderful thing. I didn't know yet how much of a burden it would become, how much it would hurt when I fought it, and how it would bring hurt to my life." He slapped himself mentally for dwelling on his misery yet again.

"Anyway, one day a census taker came to town to count the population. Unfortunately, he turned out to be an adviser for the queen who had known my mother very well. When he came to the door, he recognized her at once despite how much she had changed—her hair, weight, age, and so on. And she knew him too, although she pretended not to. So, as soon as he left, my parents knew that we had to leave, to move again, before our lives could be ruined again.

"But even as we were packing and I was asking what was going on, and my family was explaining everything, the adviser was telling the queen the incredible news that her sister was alive and well. You can imagine her shock. She was overjoyed, and began plotting at once how to get her back. She had tried coercion, brute force, and violence before. Now she chose subtlety, or her version of it. Just as we were about to leave town, the commander of the local garrison arrived and arrested my father for murder."

Virginia blinked in surprise. "He didn't...really kill anyone, did he?" She sounded very reluctant to say the words, but they both knew the question had to be asked.

Wolf did, however, give her a withering look to show his disgust at her even entertaining that belief for a second. "Of course not! My father wouldn't have laid a finger on anyone without just cause. He was a sheep in wolf's clothing! It all had to be a mistake, or a lie. For years I thought it was the former...but I eventually learned it was the latter."

"What?" Her eyes were blazing with that fire he knew so well, the fire he'd seen in her grandmother's apartment and later on the road outside the Troll Palace when she'd insisted they go back to the prison.

The wagon hit another rut, and then suddenly they were rumbling over cobblestones. Wolf looked up to see they were now free of the forest and passing through the gates of a small town. People were staring at the approaching entourage of soldiers in curiosity and suspicion: a blacksmith with soot-stained hands opening the door of his forge to let out the heat; a washerwoman wringing out clothes; an innkeeper sweeping his porch with a broom of twigs. More were gathering as they passed down the town's main street, and their looks were openly hostile.

Hurriedly he turned back to Virginia, who was also peering out at the townsfolk. She had to hear the truth before the shouting started. "Yes, Virginia. Years later, when I was being arraigned and tried for devouring the Peeps' sheep, Chancellor Griswold looked into my case personally, and after making some quiet inquiries, he found out what had really happened. My father was accused of murdering the butcher to steal meat for his family—a ridiculous charge, we had plenty of meat in our own backyard and the butcher was a good friend of the family. It turns out though that he had indeed been killed—but it was by Red dragoons, at the order of Red Riding Hood III herself!"

He bristled at the memory, scratching at his temple. "She framed my father—had the soldiers slash the body to shreds with old wolf fangs and leave lots of wolf fur around to make it look convincing. And then she procured witnesses to perjure themselves and say they'd seen my father running out of the butcher's with bloody clothes and a wild look in his eyes." He paused significantly. "That was enough evidence to convict and execute Duncan under Second Kingdom law. It was all a plot to dispose of the horrible wolf who had stolen away the precious princess. Carmine thought that with Duncan dead, Cerise would have no choice but to come crawling back to her and marry a nice prince the way she wanted. She did it all."

_"__**WHAT**__?"_

Virginia leapt to her feet so rapidly she almost slammed her head into the low ceiling of the wagon. Her face was absolutely livid.

But she would have to wait for an answer for some time, as her sudden activity had attracted the attention of the townsfolk. They began crowding around the wagon, buzzing with anxious questions about the captives, which the soldiers were only too happy to answer. As soon as the garrison commander snarled out Wolf's identity, the crowd turned ugly. The innkeeper brandished his broom, the washerwoman picked up a dripping washboard, while other villagers grabbed pitchforks, axes, and rope. They began chanting and yelling at the top of their lungs.

"Burn the wolf! Burn the wolf!"

"Burn the wolf-lovers!"

"Down with wolves!"

"Burn the princess's murderer!"

Rotten fruit and raw eggs began sailing through the air, smashing against the bars and those inside the wagon. One juicy tomato hit the Piper square in the face, leaving him smeared and stained with red. At any other time Wolf would have found that incredibly funny, but at the moment he was too busy shielding Virginia from the worst of the assault.

When the villagers became too serious, throwing rocks and pressing up against the wagon to pound on the bars and swing at the prisoners, the soldiers finally restored order and pushed the mob back. Having had their fun, they grinned and hurried the wagon on its way, until they passed through the town square and moved on back into the outskirts of the village. Finally the crowds thinned out and dispersed, but not before all three of them were soaked and bruised by the pelting fruit.

After what seemed an interminable amount of time, the wagon left the village behind. The garrison commander smirked up at the three of them, seeming quite pleased with himself. "I hope you enjoyed that, wolf. For there is only more of the same on the journey ahead." Chuckling, he moved on back to the front of the procession.

Snarling after him, Wolf wiped tomato guts out of his hair and shook himself as clean as he could. Turning back to Virginia, he helped her sit down and held her in his arms as she cried softly into his shoulder. When she was through, she lifted her tear-streaked face. "And here I thought your world was better than mine...but it's not. It's just as bad."

Wolf nodded solemnly.

Sniffling, Virginia searched her pockets until he handed her a handkerchief so she could blow her nose. Then she looked him firmly in the eye. "Red Riding Hood III set your father up to be tried and executed for something he didn't do, all because she hates wolves and wanted to force her sister to come home and be a princess, even though she was happy and had a life of love where she was. And everyone was fine with this? For crying out loud, what do you have to do in this place to be considered an _Evil_ Queen?" She shook her chains and threw them down on the planks with a grating, rattling series of thuds, then looked away, her throat choking up. He realized she had to be thinking about her mother again.

The Piper, meanwhile, looked just as incensed as Virginia. "How vindictive! How cold-hearted!" He quivered in righteous indignation. "No royal should ever treat their own flesh and blood so callously! Imprisoning her, then plotting to arrest and execute her husband...circumventing and abusing the law...Red Riding Hood III does not deserve to be a queen! I never liked the House of Red a great deal, they are far too arrogant—and now I know my initial ill judgment of them was well-founded!" He nodded firmly.

Wolf shook his head, scowling. "Better be careful what you say, Piper-boy. Those words could get you charged with treason here. And what you're both forgetting is that no one knew what Carmine did, she did it secretly, behind the scenes. And in any case, most wouldn't have cared. They would think it justified to rescue the poor lost princess. If the wolf hadn't committed that murder, so what? He surely had committed another one, or would in the future. The queen did them a service by ridding the Kingdom of the wolf, especially one who would so boldly challenge the crown. Anything is allowed when hunting down and eliminating wolves."

Virginia looked like she couldn't decide whether to cry again or scream. "But that's so unfair! It's prejudice! There has to be some way to reveal the truth, clear your father's name..." She paused, frowning, then turned to face him. "Wait a minute, something doesn't add up. That still doesn't explain why _you_ are wanted for treason. And why were those people back there calling you the princess's murderer?"

Bile rose in Wolf's throat, and he gnashed his teeth. "Why, Virginia, they blame me for my mother's death, of course!"

_"You?"_ She stared at him, dumbfounded. "How does that follow? What aren't you telling me?"

Wolf glared at her, although the expression was meant for Red Riding Hood III. "Let me see if I can sum it up for you. When my father was arrested and tried, it was a foregone conclusion that he would be executed. The magistrate would see to that, and the queen herself was coming to witness the burning. So what was my mother to do? If she went back with Carmine, she'd be forced to marry a prince, a man she didn't love, while her true love was dead. And do you think he'd have adopted a half-wolf child? Of course not. He and the queen would have made sure that I was quietly killed.

"But Cerise couldn't remain with me either. If she did, she'd put my aunt and uncle and cousins in danger. Where else could she go? She couldn't seek out Duncan's family, they had disowned him and they hated her because she was of the House of Red, and as they saw it responsible for Darren's death and soon Duncan's too. No other wolves would take her in because she was human. And she couldn't survive on her own, she hadn't learned nearly enough to do it, she'd been a pampered princess all her life.

"Even if she could somehow find somewhere else to live, and work, and take care of a half-wolf child when she still didn't know enough about our lives and habits and cycles, we'd always be living in fear. At any moment we could be found, and we'd have to run again, or I'd be killed and she'd be dragged back to Incarnadine. There was only one way she could spare my life, make sure I'd get a proper wolven upbringing, and avoid her fate all at the same time. And it made perfect sense to her...because she couldn't live without Duncan."

Virginia's face was taut and white, eyes filled with shock. "No! You don't mean..."

"Oh, yes. I'm afraid so." He still remembered the fateful words, when his mother had knelt down before him, eyes red and bleary from weeping her grief, hands rubbed raw from constant wringing, clothes dirty and sweaty because they hadn't been changed since the arrest. He remembered how she had tried to keep her voice from breaking, tried to keep it level, as she whispered to him to be a good boy, to always mind his aunt and uncle, and then told him she was going away and never coming back.

Longing to howl but restraining himself by sheer force of will, Wolf wrenched his gaze aside and watched the raindrops trickling and sliding along the cold iron bars, watched the fields of wheat and rye recede into the distance. "The day of the burning was much like today, cold and gray and lifeless, like my heart. I was supposed to stay inside, away from the death and cruelty, but I slipped out a window and made my way to the town square. The queen was sitting on a platform erected just for the occasion, and I remember thinking how beautiful she was in her crimson dress and with all those jewels and auburn curls. I remember thinking she didn't look like a murderer, that she couldn't be my aunt.

"And then they brought out my father, all the good farmers who, a short time ago, had been good friends and drinking buddies with Duncan. Now they were dragging and kicking him along, bashing him in the head for no good reason. They tied him to a stake surrounded by faggots of wood, and they had just lit the fire when my mother pushed her way through the crowd. She'd unbound her hair and washed the dye out so it streamed behind her like a river of honey.

"She stood right there in front of the entire town, and her sister, and shouted how they were destroying her love, and destroying her at the same time. The queen just laughed at her silliness and told her to quit playacting, to come back to her castle where she belonged and put this youthful indiscretion behind her. I've never heard a laugh so empty of mirth, so cruel in its vapid merriness.

"But she stopped laughing when Cerise glared at her, so full of anger and fury. I'd bet she'd never seen such a look before, certainly not from her own sister. And then my mother only shook her head, pity and contempt in her azure eyes, and turned to the pyre. It was all ablaze by then, and my father was struggling at the center, screaming and howling in such despair...and then, before anyone could stop her, my mother rushed forward and leaped onto the pyre, climbing through the flames to reach her love. I watched her dress singe and smoke and then erupt in tendrils of orange and red, and it was like I was someone else, someone detached who didn't even care. I can still smell the ashes, the stinging smoke, the scorched flax and cotton—and the burning flesh..."

He stopped and looked back at Virginia, who sat in silent horror, tears streaming down her cheeks, jaw trembling, lips quivering. "That's what happened, Virginia. They built a great big fire and burnt them both."

For a long while the creaking timbers of the wagon served as the only eerie counterpoint to the looming silence. Then Virginia whispered brokenly, "Oh Wolf...I'm so sorry..."

Normally he would have rushed to her side to comfort her, or hung his head and whimpered until she hugged and kissed him to make him feel better. But nothing could make him feel better. His heart was cold, so very cold, hollow and empty of emotion. It was as if he had been scoured clean by the same fire that burned his parents, leaving only a blackened husk.

After several more minutes he managed a dark chuckle. "But at least I scared the queen right out of her petticoat."

Virginia frowned. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "After my parents were no longer struggling in the flames, I made my way through the crowd until I stood before the throne where the queen was weeping. And I told her exactly who I was and what I thought of her. I brought myself to tears as I called her a wicked woman who didn't deserve to rule the Kingdom and cared only about herself. And then I told her one day I would kill her. I'd leap on her and rip her throat out."

A soft gasp answered his pronouncement, but in his mate's eyes he could also see a strange light, as if she secretly approved of the threat on some level. "No wonder she charged you with treason."

Wolf nodded. "My threat and slander were indeed the official reasons she gave when she rebutted me. But she also declared that I was the cause of my mother's death. That if I had not existed, if I had not been born, Cerise would have had no reason to fear returning to the palace or even living alone without Duncan. She could have accepted her sister never coming home, as long as she was free of the wolf. But instead she had killed herself to spare me. So I was to blame. And not only that, I was the progeny of the wolf who had seduced her sister into her doom. The wolf who was the grandson of Old Grey. For all of these reasons, I was a traitor and had to die.

"But I didn't give them a chance to kill me. I leaped at the queen, far too quickly for any soldier to stop me. For a moment I saw the naked fear on her beautiful face. And then I was over the throne, hurling myself into the crowd and racing off into the streets. I went to my aunt and uncle and told them what happened, and at once we all packed and slipped out of town before anyone could arrest us."

Virginia sighed in relief, even though his presence in the wagon made clear the fact he had escaped and survived. Then she gazed into his eyes, penetratingly. "She was wrong, you know. You can't be blamed for what happened, it was all the queen's fault. She just can't stand to admit she's responsible for her own sister's death. What your mother did out of love for you cannot be made your burden."

Finally, Wolf softened, and let out a tiny whimper as he looked up at her sadly. He knew she was right in his head, but his heart still ached, irrationally feeling he was partially at fault.

Rather than say this, however, he continued with the story, relating how he and his aunt Celia's family had moved around constantly, hiding first in the western reaches of the Kingdom, then the eastern, never staying anywhere more than a few months. And how when he was sixteen he had finally put his foot down and left home for good, so as not to place his family in any more danger.

"I came to the Fourth Kingdom then," he concluded. "And I let myself go feral. I stopped taking care of myself, I lost all my table manners and any other sign of civilized life. I didn't care anymore what people thought of me or what I did to them, because I was positive they all hated, feared, and rejected me the way Red did. I lived in the woods all the time, usually the Disenchanted Forest, only coming out to steal livestock when game was scarce. I stayed like that for two years. I never killed anyone, but I sure scared 'em out of their wits!" He chuckled in spite of himself.

"And then I was finally caught after eating the Peeps' sheep, and I knew I was done for. Luckily for me, though, my crime was considered so horrendous that the chancellor himself came down to deal with me. When he looked into my case, he not only learned about my treason charge, and my father's murder charge, and how spurious they both were, but he ascertained my identity. I was a prince. That made him think long and hard about executing me. Even though Red Riding Hood III would never acknowledge me, I was still royalty, and it would be wrong to deny me the privileges of my rank. It would be a gross violation of courtly etiquette, he told me, to end my life. It's the only time I was glad to be a prince.

"The next alternative was to send me back to the Second Kingdom, but I would only be executed there, too, and for no good reason, he felt. Plus, he was afraid that if he sent me back and I were burned like my father, the wolves would be furious—not only at Carmine, but at him and the other Fourth Kingdom officials. And there could be uprisings. Wendy was only twelve at the time, with his advisers serving as regents. They would be helpless and fall easily to any attack. So, he chose the lesser of all the evils available, since he couldn't simply let me go. He sentenced me to life in Snow White Memorial Prison.

"I stayed there for nine years...pining for the freedom of the forest, longing for the moon, losing my sanity, my desires and hungers out of control, become the worst kind of wolf there was. Many times I thought I had become my great-grandfather. I stayed there, wallowing in self-pity...until your mother released me."

Again, silence reigned in the wagon. At last, after an uncomfortable cough, Virginia moved over to his side yet again, as if a stick caught in the current, and settled down to embrace him tightly. She didn't say anything for a long time. When she did speak, it was in a tone of such hatred it shocked him in spite of his apathy. "I can't believe it. Your whole life was ruined by one woman's jealousy, betrayal, and prejudice...and now we're in her power."

"That's about the size of it," Wolf replied in a weary, barely audible voice. "Welcome to the Second Kingdom." He turned away from her, eyes sightlessly fixed upon the flat, unchanging landscape passing by, seeing only faces and hearing only voices he had not longed for more powerfully than he did now.

Onwards into the dismal day the wagon rumbled.


	7. Six: Her Majesty's Enemies

**Six**: Her Majesty's Enemies

For the next three days they traveled ever westward, fed only infrequently with dry, crusty, tasteless bread, moldy cheese, and rainwater. They passed through several more villages, and in each one the mobs were worse and the insults more vile. Apparently word had gone ahead of them, telling who they were. At first they tried to protect themselves from the onslaught of produce, and Virginia tried to argue for their innocence, but after a while they only crouched like crabs in the bottom of the wagon and stayed still and subdued, not even talking to one another.

By midmorning of the third day they were arriving in Incarnadine, the capital, and in spite of the confrontation ahead, Wolf was almost looking forward to it. At least the journey would be over, and the angry faces and raucous voices. At least they could step down out of this infernal wagon. Lifting his head, he gazed with disinterest at the center of the Kingdom, his forehead pressed to the bars. He had seen it many times before, and he despised it as much as ever.

Incarnadine was red, as was to be expected. The houses were all built of brick or sandstone, with crimson shutters and scarlet shingles. The cobblestones were red, the windows held redly-tinted glass, the smoke coming from the chimneys was red, even all the citizens' clothes were red. Most of them had colored their hair as well. But it wasn't their hair he was looking at as the wagon passed through the massive gates and down the broad road. It was their venomous stares, their twisted scowls, their banners and signs screaming for wolven blood and royal murderers.

The city was enormous and sprawling, second in size only to Wendell's capital, and the noise was incredible. Virginia's eyes were wide as they traversed the winding road, but since he knew New York was far, far larger than any city in the Kingdoms, Incarnadine's size couldn't be the reason for her expression. Following her gaze, he saw the towering castle of Red Riding Hood rising from the center of the city—and even after all this time he had to agree it was impressive.

Its rough-hewn stones stained the same sanguine hue as everything else, it cast a strange, irregular shadow, battlements and parapets and spires and arching tower bridgewalks producing an unsettling silhouette against the ashen sky.

Wolf had heard the word "pile" used in ancient poetry to describe a building, and this structure was one he felt deserved the term. It seemed to crouch above the ground like a blocky giant, ponderous and oppressive, dwarfing every edifice in the city. And it only grew larger the closer they came.

"Burn the wolf! Burn the wolf!" The fervent, hysterical cries swelled and roared, and acrid smoke filled the air as torches were lit and waved about wildly. Some members of the crowd, he saw with disgust and fury, were draped in the ragged pelts of wolves, clotted with dried blood. The soldiers guarding the wagon kept the mob mostly at bay, but several, he noticed, were pointing in his direction, laughing, and motioning with their hands in gestures intended to suggest a tail. Then they exchanged coins with a few of the spectators. Selling shares of his hide, no doubt. His blood boiled.

The awful assaults of fruit and vegetables, rocks and eggs, even rancid meat, continued, with the hellish maelstrom of howling faces, spraying spittle, and fiery brands serving as a frightening backdrop. But finally, mercifully, the citizens were driven back fully as the wagon entered the central square of the city. There, a massive statue, painted red, depicted the demure figure of Red Riding Hood, looking at her sweetest and most innocent as she bore a basket of goodies for her grandmother in one hand and a gathering of flowers in the other. Beyond the statue, the castle loomed ever higher and more daunting, and as they approached the drawbridge over the murky moat, he could see arrowslits dotting the walls, with a crossbow bolt extended from each one.

With the rumbling of timbers the wagon lurched across the bridge, wheeling into the cobblestoned bailey of the castle and coming to a stop before the heavy oak doors of the keep. Before the cart had even fully settled to a stop, the garrison commander was unlocking the small barred door in the side and jerking on Wolf's chains, throwing him off balance so that he fell out face-first onto the hard stones.

Even as he stumbled to his feet with a bleeding lip, the Piper landed beside him in a similar heap, and then a soldier lifted up the pregnant Virginia and hoisted her with more care out of the wagon, setting her upright but still more roughly than he would have liked. Seeing one of these Trolls in human skin even laying hands on his beloved was enough to make him snarl and lurch toward the nearest soldier—but all he received for his trouble was a gauntlet smashing into his face, splitting his lip again and bruising his jaw. Dazed, he staggered almost drunkenly, hardly aware when the commander unlocked all of their chains, then jabbed him in the back with the butt of a spear, prodding him forward.

Climbing the four steps to the doorway, he accompanied Virginia and the Piper into the darkened interior of the palace. As he recovered his equilibrium and his vision cleared, he found himself in a long, marbled hallway lighted by guttering torches in infrequent sconces. All along the walls hung portraits of the generations of Hoods, interspersed with magnificent tapestries that, unsurprisingly, depicted in nauseating detail the slaughter of wolves. Most prominent among these was a stylized version of the death of Old Grey at the hands of the woodsman.

Thankfully the soldiers propelled them along the hall so quickly there was no time to view all the horrific weavings, and it was in fact quite easy to avoid looking at them. Wolf was extremely glad he had not been forced to see a tapestry of his father's burning. Ahead, he saw a pair of wine-red doors set into a Gothic arch, each half adorned with golden fixtures, including heavy knockers, and divided into five panels. Wolf trembled. Those were the doors to the queen's throne room. There was no turning back now, no escape. It was as if Death's cold hands carried him onward.

At the doors they were jerked to a halt as the soldiers escorting them consulted with the two burly sentinels at watch. Then, with a smirk, the guards threw open the doors and closed ranks behind them, pushing them into the room. At the same moment a silk-clothed herald with a ridiculous floppy hat and pointed shoes raised a high ringing voice into the vast throne room. "The prisoners to be interrogated: Prince Colin, the Pied Piper; Lady Virginia the Fair; and Wolf, great-grandson of Old Grey."

Murmuring and whispering flooded the room with an echoey susurration that made his flesh crawl as the gossip and judgment began, its source being the countless courtiers thronging the hall. But Wolf noticed none of them. Instead he let his eyes unerringly follow the scarlet carpet, like an unfurled tongue, all the way to the throne of rubies and garnets—and there she was. The face he would never forget, the face burned into his memory by an oath of vengeance. At once his lips writhered back, exposing his fangs, and a vicious, low-pitched growl throbbed in his throat. Even this far away he could see her throat fluttering with a fear he remembered well. It was her. It was Red Riding Hood III.

* * *

The moment she laid eyes on the queen of the Second Kingdom, Virginia felt an intense loathing like none she had ever felt before. Instantly she knew that, even if she had known nothing of the woman's history, had not just been told three days ago of her heinous sins, she would have taken an instant dislike to her on sight. In the arrogant set of the auburn-haired monarch's jaw and eyebrows, in the haughty shape of her cheekbones and nose, were signs of Red Riding Hood's inner cruelty and darkness, a cold and emotionless heart epitomized by her fiery eyes, which were the exact shade of ruby, the hardest mineral save for diamond.

But because Virginia did know the truth about Carmine's character, because she did know what awful atrocities she had committed, her estimation of the queen was lowered even further. Truly beauty only was skin deep; underneath that creamy powdered skin and flawless complexion lay the twisted soul and wart-strewn countenance of a Troll, as far as Virginia was concerned.

Driven by her desire to give this horrible queen a piece of her mind, Virginia strode down the carpet even before the soldiers could urge her to move. Wolf and the Piper followed, the former still snarling and growling, the latter tense and pale with fear, but she only spared them a glance; all her attention was on Red Riding Hood III and the room around her. It was as splendorous and ornate as she had expected it to be, a tasteless show of wealth and power that did not impress her in the slightest, as she knew that at its core was only vanity.

The room's floor and ceiling were expanses of marble with rows of pillars on either side, each set upon massive plinths at least as tall as her father. Alternating between the pillars were Gothic windows set into ebony casements, draped with heavy red velvet curtains. In fact red was the predominant color, from the tapestries and gaily decorated banners suspended from the ceiling and the minstrels' gallery, to the baldachin over the throne, to the fine silks and satins worn by the courtiers clustered along the walls. She wondered how the queen and the rest of her court could keep from growing sick of the hue. Thanks to the windows and the torches the throne room was filled with light, yet it still somehow seemed dark and sinister in its mood.

At last the three of them reached the dais on which the throne was raised and stood before Carmine. For a long time the queen only stared down at them with a bored, disinterested expression, and a faint hint of contempt. Then the garrison commander approached the throne and handed her a scroll of parchment. Reading over it with only a perfunctory glance, she handed it back almost immediately and returned to looking at the prisoners.

Her eyes were now calculating, assessing. Virginia met her gaze with open defiance and confidence.

She was not about to grant respect and superiority to such a woman, no matter what title she had been born to. And what with her crimson gown of layered ruffles and tight bodice, the golden crown perched on her brow, and the overall surroundings of red, she matched precisely a figure Virginia held in very low esteem, the infamous Queen of Hearts. She half expected Red Riding Hood III to shout, "Off with their heads!" at any moment.

Virginia bit her lip anxiously. Considering their predicament, that had not been a good thought at all.

"Well, well, well." Her voice was light, lilting, almost conversational, interrupting Virginia's reverie. "It's been a long time, Wolf. How...fortunate that you could join me. I am most pleased you accepted my...invitation." The corner of the queen's mouth twitched.

A sardonic laugh was her reply, and then Wolf snarled softly. "Oh, but the way you had it delivered, how could I possibly say no? And I would never miss an opportunity to meet you, Auntie Carmine."

Red Riding Hood stiffened and skewered him with a scathing stare. "How dare you call me that! I refuse to accept we share a single drop of blood in common. You are nothing but a mongrel, one I have brought here to be summarily done away with." A satisfied smile curled her lips.

Wolf narrowed his golden eyes, half-crouching. "I'd like to see you try!"

Virginia put a hand over her face. However much she despised the queen and wished she could unleash Wolf on her, she knew he would only earn injury or death at the hands of the guards protecting the monarch. Diplomacy and tact were needed, however much she loathed using them in this case.

Reining Wolf in with a steady glare, she stepped forward. "Your Majesty, I am well aware that you have, shall we say, a turbulent history with Wolf. But none of that matters right now, because there are events that must be dealt with, events that will affect all the Kingdoms if they are not handled swiftly and efficiently. You must let us go."

The startled expression on the queen's face showed how taken by surprise she was by this unexpected tactic. But in moments she had recovered and was laughing mockingly. "Oh really? I must? And who are you to demand I do anything? I am the queen here, and you are nothing but an ordinary girl, naive and foolish. And I will not allow you to deny me justice."

The words were ones she had heard before, cast in other phrasings but with essentially the same thrust as those of her mother. But Virginia was stronger now than she was then, and she succeeded in quelling the old feelings of insecurity and inadequacy.

She was about to make a remark about revenge disguised as justice, however impolitic it might be, when the Piper surprisingly moved to her side, assuming his most aloof posture. "I will have you know, Your Majesty, that I myself am a prince of the Fourth Kingdom and deserve all the rights appertaining thereto. You have no call to imprison me, and I kindly suggest you release us all unless you wish an international incident. Do not forget the Nine Kingdoms Treaty." He crossed his arms over his chest.

When he finally lapsed into silence, Virginia stepped smoothly into the breach. "Prince Colin is correct. And he is not the only one with important connections. However much you may not want to accept it, Wolf is one of the Four Who Saved the Nine Kingdoms, as am I. So we are due respect and authority. I know you have laws you wish to uphold, but our journey supersedes those laws, if you will allow me to explain."

She was rather proud of that speech, but the queen did not appear at all impressed. Looking down her nose first at Colin, she smirked. "Oh yes...a prince who is the great-grandson of the Pied Piper who stole the children of Hamelin. Now there is a lineage I should be wishing to wave around and claim as a mark of legitimacy. I rather think few would care if you remained in my custody."

Turning away from the chagrined prince, Red Riding Hood III looked then at Virginia, and the sneer she gave made Virginia grit her teeth. "As for you...I am well aware of your supposedly glorious exploits against the Evil Queen. But I am not a doddering old fool like Cinderella, nor am I ignorant and easily awed like Wendell. You cannot pull the wool over my eyes, Lady Virginia." The way she said "Lady" made it obvious she considered the title a misnomer.

"What do you mean?" Virginia replied coldly.

Carmine blinked with exaggerated care. "Do not play games with me. You have put on airs ever since the coronation. You think you are a heroine, a savior, come to us in our hour of need. But what salvation did you bring? The Huntsman died by his own bolt, victim of his own magic. None of your doing. The Queen died by luck and circumstance, again felled by an ancient spell, the Wicked Stepmother's own poisoned comb. You were simply in the position to take advantage of the situation. All you are, my dear, is an opportunist, a foreigner, a visitor from a mysterious land. You do not belong here; you are not wanted here, and frankly I wish you had remained in the Tenth Kingdom. You think you are great, like Snow White, Cinderella, or my grandmother? Hardly. You cannot compare with them. Not in the slightest."

The courtiers in the throne room burst into applause at this, and the queen inclined her head graciously in acknowledgement of the adulation. But Virginia was clenching her jaws, cheeks flaming with fury and shame. _I cannot compare with Cinderella or Snow White?_ she thought. _And I suppose you can? Which of us is the one who has spoken with Snow White, and been told she was standing on the edge of greatness? Which of us, by contrast, persecutes the innocent under the guise of protecting her people, and acts out of jealousy and spite to get her own way?_

But she spoke none of this aloud, knowing it would only enrage the queen. Instead she closed her eyes for a few moments and then looked at her levelly. "And what of Wolf? He saved all the rulers of the Kingdoms, including yourself, from being poisoned."

Riding Hood sniffed dismissively. "So he says."

Again Virginia was on the verge of snapping a retort, something on the order of being too proud to admit she had nearly been poisoned because then she could not deny having validated a dog as the next king of the Fourth Kingdom. But no, however much her flaring temper demanded it, she had to stay calm. She had to tell Red Riding Hood what had happened to Wendell. Then maybe she would sit up and take notice.

"Fine, Your Majesty, you can believe whatever you want, I won't debate it with you. There's no time. Wendell, and you, and all the Kingdoms are in terrible danger." Her voice cut through the air sharply, producing a shocked silence in the room.

The queen blinked and raised one arched eyebrow. "Oh? Do tell." Her expression and tone were quite dubious.

Virginia took a deep breath. "The Ice Queen has enchanted Wendell, and taken over the Fourth Kingdom, and she means to cast her spell over all the Kingdoms."

Carmine froze, eyes blazing. "What?"

So Virginia laid out the whole story yet again, wondering how many times she would have to tell the tale even as she related Rupert's story, what she had witnessed using the Spying mirror, what the Seeking mirror had told her, and the plans the Witch of Winter had devised. By the time she finished with the news that only a dragon could intervene on their behalf, the courtiers were once more abuzz with conversation, and this time she could tell they were intensely frightened and horrified.

Riding Hood herself looked troubled and worried for a few minutes, but then she asked a question that filled Virginia with outrage and prompted Wolf to snarl fearsomely. "What proof can you offer that your tale is true? I note Wendell is conveniently unable to corroborate your words."

Placing a hand on Wolf's shoulder to restrain him, she then approached the throne, pulling Lord Rupert's signet ring from her pocket. "Here. This should prove I tell the truth. I trust you recognize it."

The queen examined the crest briefly, then cradled the ring thoughtfully in the palm of her hand. When she regarded Virginia, it was with narrowed eyes that did not inspire confidence. "Oh yes, it is quite familiar. But I wonder, how did you come by this?" Before Virginia could protest that Rupert had given it to her, Riding Hood cut her off. "It seems to me that this ring could just as easily have been stolen."

Again Wolf snarled, but this time one of the soldiers cuffed him. All this happened in the periphery of Virginia's vision; all her attention was fixed on the queen, who was tapping the ring on the arm of her throne. The soft clink of the jewel against the gold was somehow very unnerving and disturbing in the vaulted room.

"Let me tell you a tale now, Lady Virginia—one I am afraid you will not like, as it does not begin with 'once upon a time' or end Happy Ever After. But nevertheless it is, I am certain, quite true." The scarlet-garbed monarch shook her head and frowned, as if she truly regretted what she was about to say. "It is a tale of a young woman, a stranger, who is the daughter of a dangerous and evil witch, and most likely a witch herself. She freely admits not only her background, but also her usage of her mother's magic mirrors, diabolical instruments of evil. She associates with a wolf, a wild and ferocious beast—and not just any wolf, but a known traitor, murderer, and fugitive from the Second Kingdom. She commits acts of bestiality with him...which have clearly borne fruit."

Riding Hood gazed pointedly at Virginia's swollen belly, her voice twisted by disgust. "And her only claim to fame, to goodness and right and decency, is having killed her own mother to save the Kingdoms—not only an act of questionable morality, but one whose very nature is uncertain because of the few witnesses to it...a wolf whose word cannot be trusted, a dead Huntsman, the witch herself, and an ensorcelled prince whose mind had gone so canine as to make him unreliable. Even if he were in possession of all his faculties, he could easily have been placed under another spell to cloud his perceptions."

As the soft and malicious words floated across the room, falling matter-of-factly from crimson lips, Virginia's heart thudded against her chest. She felt as if it had become a burning coal being compressed into a diamond, cold and lifeless. At the same time, a wrenching pain flamed in her breast. The queen had latched onto her insecurities yet again, and this time she was hard-pressed to resist the old habit of denying herself. The implied accusation, that she had murdered her mother, was especially telling and haunting.

Fighting her growing despair, she balled her fists. No, it wasn't true! How could Carmine be saying such lies and calling them the truth? Did she have the intelligence of a Troll as well as the morals and soul of one? Or could she actually be so blind and hard-hearted as to believe her own words?

Even as Virginia struggled to comprehend the queen; tried to quell her growing rage—and distress—as she heard herself accused of the most awful things and reminded of her heritage of evil that had so tempted her in the form of the Seeking mirror, Red Riding Hood continued inexorably, like the procession of the planets. "What actually occurred, you see, was this: the girl and her mother had been in league with one another, plotting the downfall of the Kingdoms. But there had been a double-cross. The daughter had her wolven lover switch Troll dust for poison and together they eliminated the Queen and her Huntsman, thereby being hailed as heroes of the land.

"In gratitude they were placed in positions of power and trust; awards and pardons were granted. All of this was to impress the various rulers, to lull them into a false sense of security, so that she could grow close, inveigle her way into the councils of the royals—and at the proper moment, betray them. More subtle than her mother's plot, so that it was more likely to succeed...and with her mother dead, there would be no requirement to share the power once it was gained."

Virginia could not say a word in her defense, shocked into a stunned silence by the audacity and cruelty of the woman before her. No, she was far too intelligent to be a Troll; she rescinded that musing. Red Riding Hood had a clever, guileful, and conniving mind, and that made her far far worse than any Troll. What was most frightening of all was, the way the queen told it, her version of events was uncomfortably convincing and realistic.

Virginia almost believed it herself, and she had been there to know the truth.

As it was she could tell the courtiers, who before had seemed genuinely upset and righteously indignant, were now doubtful and conflicted. Some were looking skeptically at Carmine, but even more were turning that expression to Virginia. And she began to tremble. Between her own history and the incredibility of her tale, it would be far more difficult to gain trust in this chamber than she had first realized. Perhaps impossible.

By now Red Riding Hood III had risen from her throne and was stalking back and forth across the dais, spearing Virginia every now and then with her frigid, infuriating contempt. "But the plot of this young woman has failed. Far from Wendell being entombed in ice, he broke free of her sorcerous grip, realized the truth of who and what she was, and exiled her and her lover from the Fourth Kingdom. That is why he is unavailable in the tale she concocted, because he would deny her words if consulted. So instead she came here...where she invented yet another plot by the vicious Ice Queen as a trap to ensnare me."

"That's a lie!" Wolf finally yelled in a violent fury. "None of it's even close to the truth, you nasty trollop!" He struggled against his captors, baring his fangs and flashing his golden eyes. One of the soldiers struck him in the back of the head, and he went limp in their arms, barely clinging to consciousness.

Virginia let out a soft shriek, which she quickly blocked with a clenched fist. Whirling back to the queen, she was appalled to see Riding Hood smirking in satisfaction. When she saw her looking, Carmine gave her a condescending look. "True, it is possible I may be wrong. But even if I am mistaken about the motive and plans of this young lady, I am not mistaken about the fraudulence of her ridiculous warning. Tell me, Virginia, did you truly think I would believe you? The Ice Queen has always remained aloof and incommunicative, and has not left the Eighth Kingdom for a hundred years or more. Do not insult me; if you wished to gain my assistance, you should have chosen a more plausible story for your web of deceit, my dear."

Finally finding her voice, Virginia could hold back no longer. "It seems to me that Your Majesty is even better at weaving such a web herself. Perhaps it is because she is too timid and arrogant to face the possibility that her realm is in danger yet again, and only I can save it?"

The silence that ensued was most pregnant. Slowly the queen, who had been facing away, turned back. "Am I? An interesting viewpoint, one I would expect you to hold. But how can you maintain it? You claim that a dragon is our salvation. You seem to think we would entrust our fate to one of those firebreathing menaces—which are extinct, no less. Are you that naive, or simply uninformed?"

"I know it sounds hard to believe, but think about it, Your Majesty. What else could have the magic to melt the Ice Queen's spell? And however evil it may be, why would a mirror lie? From what I've been told, mirrors never do."

Riding Hood nodded. "I cannot deny that. But consider what you are asking me to do. If I am to believe that you are not your mother's daughter, that you tell the truth about the Ice Queen, and that you travel on a journey to locate what can truly save us, then I am also to release you and your companions. But this requires me to abrogate my own laws, and to spare the wolf who caused the death of my sister...the wolf who threatened my own life.

"That is quite impossible for me to do. I rather think that, whatever your motive and plans, your words are meant, at this juncture, only to persuade me to pardon Wolf. And since you have coupled with the beast, your objectivity is clearly compromised. No, no, a thousand times no!" Crossing her arms over her chest, she jutted her chin stubbornly and sat back down on her throne.

Bitterness and anger welled up in Virginia, higher and higher, building into a conflagration. It burst out at last, resisting her rationality in a fiery desire to strike out—at the woman who not only refused to see the very real danger that loomed over her, and who had ripped apart Virginia's heart, but who had also destroyed Wolf's life. Grasping at the words of the deceased Sally Peep, she hissed, "Why, you selfish little goblin!"

A collective gasp filled the great hall. In the void of sound that followed, Carmine slowly turned her head to Virginia. Her lip twitched. "What did you say?"

It was too late now, she had crossed the line and she knew it, but she had to brazen it out. Red Riding Hood was impossibly truculent and closed-minded, she could see that now. Nothing she said would ever sway her and earn their freedom. That being the case, there was no reason she should not tell the queen everything that seethed inside her mind.

"You heard me." Lifting her chin in a mirror image of the queen, Virginia raised her voice so it could fill the throne room. "You are selfish and a fool, with a cruel and monstrous heart. You raise yourself up as a paragon of virtue, but you are anything but! You say I am nothing compared to the Five Women Who Changed History, but neither are you. I bet your grandmother is rolling over in her grave as we speak! You will grasp at any straw to ward away the truth. First you claim I am a witch and a liar, a traitor and an exile. Then you insult my integrity and motive. And all the while it is because you are so insecure and uncertain that you cannot accept what is staring you in the face!

"As for Wolf...that is the biggest travesty of justice I have _ever_ heard. He did not cause your sister's death. Neither did his father. You did, Your Majesty, _you_ did. With your jealousy and need to control, you drove her to her death. She would still be alive today if you had simply let her live her life in peace with the wolf she loved." By the time she had finished her tirade, Virginia was shaking with her emotions.

Every face in the vast chamber was pale with horror and disbelief. The only sound was the occasional shifting of feet, the whispers of cloth, and the soft clink of armor and chain mail. Virginia kept her eyes trained on the queen, who sat ramrod-straight in the throne, her hands clutching the arms so tightly her knuckles were white. A muscle spasmed and jerked in her cheek.

After another five minutes, during which Virginia and Red Riding Hood III looked only at each other, Carmine wrenched herself to her feet and trembled there. "How dare you...how dare you defy me in such a manner!"

"Easily." Virginia was the one to cross her arms now. "I am not your subject; you have no jurisdiction over me except that which you invent for yourself, and certainly none over my opinions."

"Then you have proven yourself to be everything I say that you are!" the queen snarled, her voice rising several octaves. At that moment, she seemed more like the Queen of Hearts than ever. "How could I, or anyone here, ever trust or believe you when you argue for the cause of those mangy, filthy, murdering _wolves?"_

Raising her voice to the same loudness so as not to be drowned out, Virginia met the beginnings of Carmine's frenzy and mania with cold defiance. "That's what this is all about, isn't it? Your insane prejudice and hate against wolves." She recalled the time, in the Huntsman's hidden treehouse, when she had declared everyone here was crazy. Red Riding Hood was certainly proving her point now; her eyes were positively gleaming with a furor of hate.

"Well, if you can let go of those emotions, even for a moment, I have a question for you: have you ever even met a wolf? And I don't mean all the ones you condemned to death and executed. Have you met one in a normal setting, seen how they live and what they do, how they feel? If not, then how can you even claim that you know for a fact that they lack any merit?"

Virginia braced herself for another explosion, shrieks and screams, but surprisingly, the queen was staring at her in a mixture of doubt, despair, and terror. Her fiery eyes darted about, as if seeking some avenue of escape, and her jaw shook. "I...I...I do not need to meet one! I know what they are like, if anyone knows what a wolf is like it is a Hood! My family was very nearly wiped out of existence by Old Grey!"

For a moment she almost felt pity for Carmine; how could anyone be so deluded? But then her own world was plagued by the KKK and others of their ilk, so she should not be surprised at the illusions people erected to block out the world and those who were different. "Yes, Your Majesty. Old Grey. But not Duncan, not Wolf. And not hundreds of other wolves you have murdered to wipe out Old Grey again and again. They are not all the same. They are no more fully evil than we are.

"And if you would argue that their moon madness and their lust for meat make them a menace...I would contend that they are misunderstood. If you provided meat for them, so that they did not have to steal from farmers' livestock...if you treated them properly, like the sensitive and intelligent, loyal and honorable men and women that they are...if you allowed them to roam free, so that there was no more fear, no more crime, no more death, no more worry...then they would not lose control and run wild. Everyone would live in peace."

To her astonishment, her words seemed to be having a persuasive effect; Red Riding Hood's shoulders were sagging wearily, her eyes were losing some of their fervor, and there was a faint glistening—perhaps of tears? Peace must be something devoutly longed for in this Kingdom; Carmine was not so callous as to wish further suffering on her subjects.

Lowering her voice, keeping it gentle now, Virginia continued. "Just think of what I've said, Your Majesty. Give it consideration. I promise you will not regret it if you do. Just...let us go, pardon Wolf, or commute the sentence to a later date if you must, just give us enough time to stop the Ice Queen. Then we will all be safe again, and you can learn for yourself what wolves are really like. You owe it to Wendell, and your subjects...and also to your sister and Wolf. I know it must have been painful to lose her, but rather then carry on the same vendetta that led to her death, why can't you fulfill her wishes? Wolf is a member of your family...it behooves you to..."

Even as the words passed through her lips, she realized she had pushed the queen too far and trailed off. Reminding her of Cerise's death and Wolf's relationship to the House of Red all in the same breath had put steel back in her spine, cementing her arrogance and pride even more rigidly than before. "Do not presume to tell me what it behooves me to do. I am the queen, not you, no matter what your ancestry, and I know what is good and right for my people. I cannot believe the temerity you display in suggesting I am responsible for my sister's demise.

"How dare you...no, it was wolves at fault, wolves to blame. And the fact that I am related to one by accident of birth does not entitle them to anything. I am ashamed to have a wolf in my family." She nodded in finality, and an approving murmuring swelled like ocean waves as the courtiers lent their voices in agreement.

Virginia shook her head, her frame once more vibrating with the force of her resurgent anger. She had been so close, she'd thought she'd finally gotten through to Riding Hood—but she knew now, unequivocally, that Carmine was far too vindictive, recalcitrant, and selfish to listen to reason. Nothing short of showing her the truth about wolves would change her mind—and there was no way to do that, even had she the time to delay the quest to do so. It was useless to try anymore; Red Riding Hood III was beyond help.

Rising to her full height, she returned the queen's gaze of contempt and ridicule. "If you truly think that, then you are as mad as the Wicked Stepmother. And I rather think that Wolf should be the one ashamed—ashamed of having in his family a cold, self-righteous bitch like you!"

An even louder gasp filled the throne room, accompanied by angry insults and arguments, but before they could die down, Carmine was already on her feet again, striding down the dais. Even as Virginia hastened to back away, the queen stalked to face her. Eyes blazing, she slapped Virginia hard across the cheek, sending her staggering. "That is quite enough out of you, little girl! I refuse to hear any more of your lies and sad, pathetic ramblings."

Virginia did not even resist as a soldier returned to her side and grabbed her arm, wrenching it painfully behind her. She still held her hand to her cheek, which throbbed redly with the impression of the queen's palm. The physical pain, matched by the emotional, made her want to cry.

Riding Hood paused before the throne and looked back over her shoulder. "I will investigate your claims concerning Wendell and the Ice Queen, and if they prove true perhaps I will spare you and your companion." She gestured at the Piper, who throughout the heated exchange and impassioned pleas had remained stoic and silent, only his eyes betraying his fear and disbelief. "But if you are proven to be the liar and traitor I suspect, then all of you shall burn with Wolf. Either way, he will die for his crimes...and you, my dear, will suffer the fate of all women who have fornicated with a wolf." She smirked and gazed significantly at Virginia's stomach. "Guards, take them to the dungeon."

Complying with a proud alacrity, clearly glad to remove the one who had so insulted their queen, the soldiers dragged her away, back toward the doors. Others seized the Piper and brought him in her wake, while those supporting Wolf jerked him along the carpet as well.

But even as Wolf, now fully awake again, looked back and forth between the two angry women with astonishment for one and fury for the other, Virginia could not tear her eyes from Red Riding Hood.

As the queen seated herself calmly and sedately on the throne as if nothing at all had happened, she stared vengefully at the woman who wore blood on her soul and conscience as well as on her body. For the first time in her life, Virginia not only truly wished someone dead...she had every intention of carrying out her murder if she had the chance.


	8. Seven: What Dreams May Come

**Seven**: What Dreams May Come

_T__hump. Thump. Whirrrrrr. Whizzzzzz. _

Hypnotically, rhythmically, the spinning wheel whirled before Virginia's eyes, its spokes a blur of motion driven by the pumping of a foot upon the treadle. An aged but still strong woman's hand held the distaff, from which coarse fibers unwound, guided by the spinner's other hand over the wheel, where it wove together to form thread upon the spindle. Smooth, unhesitating, the thread played out, strong and taut. From time to time her eyes strayed along its quivering length, but they always returned to the rotating wheel, which gave off a creaking hum.

"Hello, Virginia."

Tearing her eyes away from the wheel, she looked up into eyes as bright and blue as her own, set in a full face, grown heavy and lined with age, but most of those lines were derived from smiles. Jet-black hair streaked with gray framed the soft, beautiful countenance, as familiar to Virginia as her own.

"Your Majesty!" she gasped, stunned anew by the regality and presence this woman exuded. In spite of herself she curtsied.

Snow White smiled and shook her head gently in admonishment, but she did not otherwise rebuke Virginia. With the practice and ease of years she continued to handle the fibers and thread, directing the path of the weaving even as she kept her eyes on her visitor. "Sit down, Virginia. I must speak with you, and my time is short."

Bemused and amazed, she looked around to discover they were in the cottage of the Seven Dwarves. It looked exactly as it had when she, her father, and Wolf had stayed the night there, except now all of the Troll graffiti was gone, and it no longer seemed so lonely and deserted. The thick layers of dust remained, silent and still, but now that had more of an air of expectancy, of waiting for someone to come and stir the atmosphere to new life.

Feeling strangely as if she had come home, Virginia sat down on a chair small enough for a child to use, but still sturdy and strong, of excellent and skilled craftsmanship. For the next several minutes she watched Snow White spin thread in a regular, cadent beat, until at last the old woman sighed and stopped pumping the treadle, letting the wheel slow and groan to a stop.

Setting down the distaff, she fingered the thread as she glanced askance at Virginia. "Lovely, isn't it? I always enjoyed spinning when I lived here, so many years ago. There is something so comforting and soothing about it, a machine so simple and single of purpose, knowing exactly what it is expected to do, and never faltering from the task. And all you must do is supply the force and the raw material, and guide it as it plays out, and it does the rest." Snow White turned and placed her hands in her lap, folding them neatly. Her eyes were a mystery, filled with wisdom and secrets Virginia found herself longing to know.

"There is a lesson to be learned from the spinning wheel, Virginia. The threads it weaves form a pattern, one not as easily seen as in the threads of the loom, but it is there...for each thread knows where it has been, and where it is going is a path laid out for it. Destiny chooses us, my dear, whether we wish it or not. But we must never forget, however much we doubt it, that we have the courage, the knowledge, and the strength to do the deed. It is ingrained into us, part of who and what we are. It is no accident that the fairy who cursed Sleeping Beauty used a spinning wheel as her instrument...she too knew the inevitability of destiny."

The mention of Sleeping Beauty, who lay slumbering in the Sixth Kingdom that was her goal, made Virginia sit up abruptly. It reminded her sharply, by the longevity of the spell, of the magnitude of the task before her...for in the dragon she faced a similar resistance to change. Shaking her head, she sighed. "What do you mean?"

Snow White reached out and took her hand, feeling as warm and alive as she had that first time in the ice cavern. "I mean, Virginia, that you are bound together, you and Wolf, and Prince Colin, and even Red Riding Hood, although she does not know it. Your threads are interwoven, and all threads lead to the same purpose, one which you cannot evade. You did well before when you helped my grandson, but your destiny has many facets and remains unfinished. You must defeat the Ice Queen...you and the dragon."

Recoiling in shock, Virginia blinked. "But...how can you say that? It was a dragon who nearly destroyed the Dwarves, and your Kingdom—who killed your dearest friends, the ones who saved your life and raised you for so long!" The words spilled out, ones she had been thinking subconsciously ever since speaking with the Seeking mirror—that it was somehow wrong to beseech the aid of a firebreathing monster.

The disapproving and reproachful stare the old woman gave her, however, made her wish she had held back the words. "Virginia...are you listening to yourself? Do not judge a species by the actions of a few members. What occurred in the past is not the fault, or the responsibility, of those who follow. You of all people, with your ancestry and mate, should know that."

An intense coldness surged in her heart at the oblique reference to her mother and Wolf, and at once she lowered her eyes in shame. "I'm sorry...I wasn't thinking."

Snow White regarded her sadly, but with understanding. "That is a fault all of us suffer from at some point in our lives. Some of us fall prey to that mistake more often than others. But you must combat it, Virginia, in yourself and others, or you will become as cold as the Ice Queen, your heart held hostage."

Virginia wanted to ask what this had to do with her quest, but Snow White seemed to read her mind. "There is more going on than you know, things that will affect the future of the Kingdoms for years to come, and you must succeed in all that lies before you. Wendell and your father are not the only ones who must be freed."

"I don't get it." Virginia tried to stop the confusion swirling in her mind. Why did everyone have to speak in riddles?

"You will, Virginia. You will." She smiled. "In the meantime, all I can do is caution you to not be fooled by appearances. Beauty conceals hate, and ugliness conceals love, but both are plagued by insecurity. Show them the way, and the rest will fall into place." Snow White rose to her feet and took Virginia's hand again.

Furrowing her brow, she allowed herself to be guided, but just as Snow White brought her to the cottage door, she turned back, realizing what was bothering her. "But how can I do anything when I'm in a dungeon? I'm trapped, I can't get out! And my baby..." Tears began flowing unchecked.

With a gentle touch and a knowing gaze, Snow White wiped away her tears and caressed her cheek. "Remain on watch, Virginia, and stand on your own two feet. Then a solution will present itself." There was a special stress laid on these words, as if they had another meaning, but Virginia could not fathom what it was. "Remember what I have said...break free of your prison, and release the others from theirs. Believe in yourself, as you did before. Take your insecurity and doubt and make them hostages for your safe running..."

Slowly she began to fade away, dissolving into mist and light, her final words echoing again and again. Virginia reached out futilely to hold Snow White close, needing the sense of peace and calm that her presence brought. "No, wait! What do you mean...?"

But Snow White had vanished with a final smile, and with her the cottage too began to be swallowed by darkness. The spinning wheel was the last to go, a strange silhouette with a gleaming spindle that slowly vanished into obscurity. Then Virginia too was engulfed, sinking into the endless night...

* * *

Gasping, Virginia cried out instinctively as she sat up on the hard bunk. Clutching her chest, she gulped and panted, trying to catch her breath as she fought the same horrible feeling of being choked she had experienced before. It was the same as in the Deadly Swamp, and even as she shuddered and coughed, she kept expecting Wolf to come to her rescue as he had then.

But he didn't come, and as her breathing subsided to normal, she leaned against the cold stone wall and remembered why he could not.

She was in her cell, deep in the dungeon of Red Riding Hood III's palace, where she had been dragged after the horrible confrontation with the queen, and while the Piper had been brought with her, Wolf had not. Howling in despair and whimpering in agony, he had fought the guards as they forcibly separated the prisoners, but however much he had struggled, he could not stop the soldiers from taking him down a dank, smelly, completely lightless passage in the opposite direction.

The signs at the intersection indicated two wings to the dungeon, for WOLVES and NON-WOLVES, the former more crude and simplistic, but Virginia could not imagine how Wolf's accommodations could be any worse than her own. The only improvement on the jail in Crookedtown was a slight increase in space. Otherwise, the smell was ten times worse, and the food and drink were identical—moldy bread and brackish rainwater.

Weeping softly, she pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes.

Suddenly a pair of arms surrounded her, and she nearly shrieked in fright. But it was only the Piper, holding her somewhat awkwardly and uncertainly, as if he were afraid of being too forward. He needn't have worried, for right now someone, anyone, was what she needed. Collapsing into his embrace, she cried into his shoulder until no more tears would come, simply glad she was not alone.

"There, there, milady," Colin whispered. "It's all right. You were only having a bad dream. I don't blame you, in a place such as this..."

"No." Sniffling, she wiped her nose. "It wasn't a bad dream, just a..." She trailed off, not certain what word adequately described it. Then she shook her head. "Nevermind, it's over now."

Pulling away from the Piper, she rose shakily to her feet and crossed to the bars separating her from her freedom. On the other side, a single guard dressed in red stood raptly at attention, his armor shining in the torchlight.

Turning back, she walked about the cell, pacing its length as she recovered her nerves. Wrapping her arms around herself, she shivered as she finally stopped in the middle of the room. "How long have we been here?"

From the shadows of the bunk, the soft, aristocratic voice floated back to her. "All afternoon, milady. It is now early evening."

Virginia looked up in surprise at a tiny barred window near the ceiling, on the back wall of the cell. Through the grille she could just make out the half moon, gleaming against the encroaching darkness, and the pinpricks of a few stars emerging, like a seamstress poking a needle through cloth, leaving tiny holes.

She sighed, putting a hand to her forehead. "What are we going to do?"

Colin leaned forward so that his face came into the torchlight from the hallway. His expression was frightened but falsely hopeful. "Do not worry, Lady Virginia. Contrary to the queen's opinion, I am certain my advisers will search for me when I am found to be absent. And once they have sent messengers and inquired until they have learned my location, they will come to my rescue. I know I can persuade them to release us all."

Snorting, she rolled her eyes and turned away. "I wish I had your confidence." She knew it was unfounded; there was no guarantee any of what the Piper had described would ever take place. Even if the prince's advisers did come looking, what was to keep Carmine from concealing any evidence as to his whereabouts? No, the only hope they had for escape was if they could somehow lay their hands on the magic shoes or the pipe, and that was manifestly impossible.

Feeling the tears well up again, she moved morosely back to the bunk and sat down in a heap beside the Piper, not even noticing when he put his arm around her once more. For a long time they only sat in a brown study. If her companion was devising wild plans of escape, she had no way of knowing; her only thoughts were of Wolf and the cub. She was going to lose them both; she could feel it.

She had failed her father and Wendell, and now Snow White...and without her mate and her baby, she had no reason to go on living. That thought scared her; never before had she contemplated suicide, it was too alien to her thinking. But then she had never tasted such a glorious wonder as true love and happiness before...or had it thrown into jeopardy, soon to be irrevocably taken away from her.

"It's over."

"What?" the Piper murmured sleepily.

"Everything. The quest, my life, my happiness...everything." Her voice sounded like someone else's, listless and weary.

Colin stiffened, coming fully awake. "No! What are you saying, milady? It is not over, it is never over! Happy Ever After cannot end."

She chuckled, but it was a dry, hollow sound, without amusement. "Don't bet on it. Besides...we never really had Happy Ever After. We couldn't have. If we did, we wouldn't have ended up here. I guess I just...don't deserve it. I'm not worth it." Virginia stumbled over her last words. She had said them so many times, yet now she seemed almost incapable of saying them, as if to do so was tantamount to lying down and expiring.

Suddenly she found herself grabbed by the shoulders and thrust into the light. The Piper was staring at her as if he didn't know who she was. "Did one of the guards strike you a blow to the head? Or is it the deplorable cuisine around here? Because those are not the words of a great heroine like yourself! You are Virginia the Fair, one of the Four Who Saved the Nine Kingdoms, and there is nothing you cannot do, if you but try."

Virginia laughed in spite of herself. The words were so ludicrous she couldn't help it. All her life she had been controlled by circumstance, by family and heartache, by the world. If there was one thing she had been certain of, secretly, it was that she would never gain what she truly wanted, no matter how hard she tried. Oh, she fooled herself into thinking that if she was independent and strong enough, she would make it, but look at where her willfulness and stubbornness had landed her now? With bitter sarcasm, she answered him. "What do you expect me to do, wave my hand and conjure us out of here?"

Colin sighed and looked away. "No, of course not. More's the pity, that would be a most useful skill in this situation. But we should not bemoan what we lack, we should be glad for what we possess."

"And what _do_ we have, huh?" Suddenly angry, Virginia began stalking around the cell again. "Nothing, that's what! My husband is going to be burned, my baby is going to be murdered. Meanwhile, the Ice Queen is consolidating her power and threatening all the Kingdoms, and you expect me to be confident in my abilities! Which are nil, I'm sorry to inform you!"

"You sell yourself far too short, milady." The Piper frowned. "You have wits, intellect, courage, and determination, as far as I have seen. And you also have destiny on your side. Whatever happens, destiny will ensure everything and everyone achieves their proper end."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot! Destiny!" Virginia laughed mockingly. "You all set such store by it, it makes me sick! Well if this is where I'm 'destined' to be, then fine, I accept it." Crossing her arms, she sat down on the floor in a huff.

For the next several minutes there was only the sound of water dripping somewhere in the darkness, and the far-off rumble of a wagon on cobblestones, traversing one of Incarnadine's nearby streets. Then the Piper spoke, his voice tinged with disbelief and admiration. "Milady...I have never met anyone with such anger as you, especially a lady."

"Well, there's a first time for everything." Virginia glared at the floor, sullen. The Gypsy Queen had said the same thing about her anger. At last she looked up at the Piper. He was watching her with a mixture of curiosity and evaluation. She didn't like that at all. "You want to know why I'm so angry?" she snapped in challenge.

Colin replied without hesitation. "I most certainly do."

She told him then, intending to lay out all the pain and resentment and broken dreams of her life, to show him why she knew, without a doubt, that she was not meant for greatness, that all she could hope for was more of the same anguish and ruin. That the brief respite she had gained from her adventure in the Nine Kingdoms—from Wolf—only served to illustrate how transient her happiness would always be. Nothing was fixed, and no matter how she tried, here or in New York, she possessed nothing to make it last.

Yet as she spoke to the Piper, something shifted inside her, and instead of merely giving him an earful of vituperations, she found herself telling her life story. All of it. And the more she told, the faster it rushed out, and she began to cry yet again. Her mother, her father, her grandmother, her empty drudgery—it all poured forth in a torrent of truth, even as a part of her writhed in fury and horror at confiding such personal secrets in a man who was nearly a stranger.

By the time she was finished, she was soaking the Piper's chest in her tears as she clutched the particolored cloth. It was more copious than the tears she had wept in Snow White's lap and at the edge of the Royal Estate, and rivaled the tears she had wept in the ballroom over her mother's body. It was as if she was crying for her very existence.

Slowly, gently, Colin began rocking her back and forth, shushing her as he rubbed her back. But when he spoke, the words were gut-wrenching, staggering in their import. "Virginia, you need to stop blaming yourself. As far as I can tell, your problem is that you try so hard to be independent, to do everything for yourself, yet you are still dependent on, and controlled by, those you love."

Lifting her blotchy face, Virginia stared up at him incredulously. "What?"

Apparently he could hear the underlying anger in her voice, for he quickly became conciliatory. "Hear me out, milady. I am a royal, so I know of what I speak. From what you have told me, your mother abandoned you, and you feel it is because she did not want you. Your father sank into depression and wasted his life away, while expecting you to maintain his household and keep him satisfied. And your grandmother dictates to you constantly concerning what sort of lady you should be, and how you must uphold her expectations for a society lady or you will amount to nothing in her eyes.

"But do you not see how this has affected you? You are determined to rise above them all, yet because your mother did not want you, you fear nothing you do will be good enough. You fear the only people you have left, the only ones who love you, will abandon you as she did. And so you let your father turn you into his maid, essentially, even as he held onto the one piece of your mother that was left to him—you. And your grandmother had held such high hopes for your mother that when she left, all your grandmother's sights were set upon you. She made you the focus of all her dreams and aspirations, not even caring what you felt about the matter.

"It is your fear of disappointing her, and of failing to be a good daughter in the wake of your mother's disappearance, that makes you a thief of your own self-worth. And now that your mother has died, you cannot even prove to her you were worth wanting."

Virginia let her jaw drop. "Colin, I..." How could he see through her with such astounding clarity? All of what he said was true, whether she wished to admit it or not. She had always worked to please her grandmother and Tony, to be whatever it was they wanted her to be. She denied it on the surface of course, insisting on standing apart from them, earning her own way, choosing her own path, but underneath it all she was indeed afraid they would turn on her and leave her if she didn't do and say what they thought was right.

She was always second-guessing herself based on their perceptions, or her mother's, whom she had often imagined as watching from somewhere far away, judging her, waiting until the right time to come back.

And in a flash of insight, she realized that fear of abandonment was why she had initially rejected Wolf in Kissing Town—anyone who professed such deep feelings for her became a prime candidate for potentially running out on her. His use of the money to pay for the expensive evening instead of for the mirror had just provided the perfect excuse for her to run away herself—it simultaneously implied he was not really in love with her (or he would have helped her go home) and suggested he too would be another to please and satisfy (as any who lavished such gifts upon her must expect a great deal in return).

The wash of emotions inside her was intense, and the play of them across her face must have been visible to Colin, for at the moment she finally accepted in her heart that she had been spending her life living in isolation in preparation for being left in the lurch, the prince reached up and stroked her cheek. "Do you see, milady? You have been living apart from your family, and yet living _for_ them at the same time. But you do not have to be their Christine. You can be Virginia, someone who _is_ wanted and loved, someone who has bravery and tenacity and skill, who can fulfill her destiny easily and make everyone, even the naysayers, proud...by being who she is."

Slowly Virginia nodded. "You're right...I can see it now...how can I ever repay you for helping me see the truth?"

"It was nothing, milady. Simply knowing you are at peace in your soul, and able to live again with confidence, is reward enough." The Piper smiled warmly.

Leaning against his chest, still reeling from the revelation of self, she closed her eyes and snuggled into his embrace, not even aware she was doing it. But after a while, she did notice how warm and strong his chest was, and how wonderful he smelled. Gazing up, she wondered idly why she had never noticed before how handsome he was, or how sweet his voice was, or how deep and brilliant his azure eyes were. He was just about her age, too, and had a great body, for that matter...

Another reward came to mind, and lost in the churning emotions, Virginia intended to give it to him. Lifting her head, she let out a shaky, husky breath and brought her lips up to his...

Suddenly her left hand jerked violently backwards of its own accord, wrenching Virginia away from the Piper and sending her tumbling in an unceremonious heap on the floor. Shaking her head to clear it of the ringing, she lifted her hand close to her eyes to see what was the matter. There, on its golden band, the precious pearl had lifted its sweet face, which was now pinched with horror and shock.

_"My dear! your Wolf do not forget _

_Lest you do something you regret,"_ it sang.

For a split second the meaning escaped her, and then all at once it rushed over her like a tsunami. "Oh my God!" she cried. "What have I—what did I almost do?"

The Piper looked equally horrified, one hand pressed to his mouth. "Milady...forgive me...I never meant..."

Virginia nodded numbly, waving his apologies aside with her free hand. "No, it wasn't you, it was my fault. I just...got carried away with my emotions." Scrambling to her feet, she moved across the cell back to the barred door and gestured to the bunk. "But maybe you'd better...sit over there for the rest of the night. Okay?"

Colin was already moving, and as he settled into place on the pallet, he wrapped the blanket around himself. "Never fear, milady...I understand, and am the soul of gallantry." He paused thoughtfully. "But...if I have not already sullied our conversation, I hope you do not forget what I said. Be your own person, Virginia. You have been pretending to live, but you need do so no longer. You have everything inside you to survive this imprisonment, make good your escape, and complete your quest...I believe it." He rolled over and faced the wall.

For a long time she stood staring at his motionless form. Then at last she slowly felt her legs give way, and she sank to the floor weakly. _You've been pretending to live._ Almost the same exact words Wolf had once snarled at her. She had known they were true then, but not why, until now.

Wolf.

Guilt surged in her heart, and she folded her legs in a flurry of movement, burying her face in her knees. How could she even think...? Was it just the hormones? No, she was too far along in the pregnancy for it to be that. Then what was it? The magic shoes weren't here to bring out any suppressed feelings. And she loved Wolf, she loved him with all her heart.

She just couldn't understand it. She was positive Wolf wouldn't either...yet she knew she had to tell him, she couldn't start lying to him now.

Another tug on her hand, this one far more gentle than the last, made her look down at the ring with watery eyes. Its expression now was sweet and kind as always, in fact deeply sympathetic. She had never thought an inanimate object could have feelings, but this one was magic and clearly did. It was special...like her love for Wolf.

_"A moment's weakness can't break your love asunder,_

_Wolf shall forgive your unintentioned blunder."_

Virginia bit her lip. "Thanks...I hope you're right." She stared down at it for a while, wondering why it had never sung before this, such as in the mirror chamber, during her meeting with the Trolls, or when the Piper had first tried to capture her. It must not have felt it was needed until now—and she could not fault its timing.

"What do I do now, ring? How can we possibly get out of here?" she asked it at last in a soft whisper.

The ring frowned thoughtfully, then brightened, giving off a sparkling golden halo of light that illuminated the cell.

_"Don't you fret, let naught affright,_

_Just heed the words of Queen Snow White!"_

Virginia jerked up in recognition. In the wild gamut of emotions of the last hour, she had completely forgotten the dream-vision. But even as she perked up, her hope began to fade, and she slumped back down again. It was all well and good to follow the ring's advice—but what use was it when she had no idea what any of Snow White's words had meant?

Sighing, she leaned back against the bars, letting the cold of the iron seep through the back of her shirt. Escape was hopeless, and now she had just made matters worse with that perplexing and upsetting near-kiss. One of her favorite songs by Styx came to mind, and she softly sang the words to herself, words that had a new meaning: "I know you feel these are the worst of times...I do believe it's true..."

* * *

Hours passed, achingly slowly, and Virginia's head was nodding into her chest. The Piper had fallen asleep almost immediately and his soft snores were the only sound in the tiny cell. Even the ring had grown tired of singing along with "The Best of Times" and only stared up at her, unblinking.

By midnight she had nearly slipped into a fitful slumber when she heard the soft scrape of bootheels on the stone floor of the hallway, incredibly loud in the stillness. Then there came a tap on the iron bars of the door, and a barely audible whisper. "Lady Virginia?"

Confused and wary, she turned and looked up. One of the guards stood looking down at her, leaning close so as not to be overheard, even though he was alone in the hallway. She vaguely recognized him as a member of the garrison of Crookedtown, a young man with a ruddy complexion, jaden eyes, and rich, curly red hair. His eyes were full of concern as he crouched down on the other side of the bars. "Milady...I came as soon as I could. I would have come to you sooner but my superiors have the eyes of hawks. And I had to wait until after the queen was through with you, you were too heavily under guard before."

Virginia furrowed her brows even deeper. "What are you talking about? Who are you?"

"I'm Corporal Andrew, milady, and I'm here to help you."

"What?" She narrowed her eyes, abruptly suspicious. "Why would you want to help us?"

The corporal glanced back furtively over his shoulder, then leaned even closer, pressing his face between the bars. "Huff-puff, do you not know what I am?"

And then his eyes flared golden in the torchlight.

The world seemed to disintegrate and fly apart, then settle down again, all of its pieces rearranged in an entirely different pattern. Breath rasping in her throat, Virginia stared at the soldier in awe and sheer disbelief. A wolf! A wolf in Red Riding Hood's palace, serving as one of her own guards! It was an unbelievable thought, one that made her want to laugh at the audacity and irony, but she had seen it with her own eyes. And now as she gazed at the corporal again, she saw the faint outlines of stubble on his chin, cheeks, and neck that she had come to associate with Wolf. Even his graceful and agile movements as he shifted from side to side had the marks of a nervous animal.

Excitement and joy flooded through her, and at once all of her morose despair and resignation to her fate departed like snow melting under the sun. A wolf, a wolf would help them escape! She bore a wolf cub, her mate was a wolf—and not just any wolf, but the one who had helped save the Nine Kingdoms and earn a pardon for all wolves. No matter what their pack or clan, any wolf would be grateful to assist them.

Yet...her innate sense of caution and skepticism made her hesitate. Why would a wolf be serving Red Riding Hood? The kind of wolf who could serve the queen that butchered his own species was not one she would trust. And not all wolves were like Wolf, some were like Old Grey. Perhaps this one was only trying to lead her into a trap, trick her into trying to escape so she could be killed in the attempt.

She vacillated for what felt like hours but was only a few minutes as Andrew watched her hopefully. How could she decide? He had been standing watch over them only a short time ago, keeping her prisoner...

Virginia blinked, suddenly remembering Snow White's words, as if in a haze: "Remain on watch..." It was a stretch, but riddles in this place usually had obscure answers. Perhaps she had been referring to Andrew!

Nodding at last, she grasped the soldier's wrist and squeezed it reassuringly. She had to trust sometime, and this was the only real chance for escape that had presented itself. "All right, let me fetch my friend and we'll see what we can come up with."

As soon as the Piper was awake and crouched beside her at the door, Virginia whispered, "What can you do for us, Andrew?" She tried not to be conscious of the Piper's warm body beside her.

The corporal smiled apologetically. "Not much, I'm afraid. I have only a few minutes until the shift changes, and I won't be back on guard again until morning. By then it will be too late for your mate." A soft growl escaped his throat, followed by a sympathetic whine. "And I don't have the keys to your cell, the guard coming to relieve me does. I could try and take them from him, but it would be too risky."

Virginia concentrated. "Can you find our belongings? We have some magic items among them that can help us escape. Colin's pipe and a pair of Troll shoes in my rucksack."

Andrew considered. "I might be able to find one of them, but not both. It depends on where they are and how well guarded they are."

Colin was wide awake now and leaned forward eagerly, brushing Virginia aside. "Fetch my pipe, then! It is more reliable than the shoes, its magic does not fail or need recharging. I can enchant the guard into giving us the keys." During the trip from Crookedtown to Incarnadine she had explained to him about the shoes and how they worked.

But Virginia's mind was racing back once more over what Snow White had said. Now that she had discerned the meaning of one mysterious clue, she was confident she could figure out the others. The ring had advised her truly. She tuned out the wolf and the Piper as they began arguing in whispers over where the pipe might be located and sent her thoughts back to that moment just before the darkness had filled the cottage in her dream.

"Stand on your own two feet..." she murmured.

"What?" Colin interrupted himself and looked at her strangely.

But she had it. She knew Snow White had stressed those words for a reason. "The shoes. We have to go for the shoes. They won't be as well-guarded as the pipe, it'll be seen as a bigger threat."

"How do you know this?" The Piper narrowed his eyes.

She chuckled. "Snow White told me."

The expression on Colin's face hovered between awe and consternation, while Andrew only stared at her uncomprehendingly.

"Forget it," she sighed. "Just go and find the rucksack with the shoes, okay?"

Nodding rapidly, the wolf scrambled to his feet and darted off down the passage without a sound.

For the next five minutes, which seemed to last an eternity, Virginia wrung her hands and cracked her knuckles over and over until she was certain she had permanently dislocated the joints. Colin too looked nervous and worried, but despite the fact that she shared his fears, and fought the urge to assume they were being betrayed, a desperate hope made her heart flutter like a bird in a cage, waiting to be released.

As she was.

Finally, just as she was about to give up, Andrew reappeared at the end of the passage, bearing the familiar shape of her rucksack over his shoulder. She felt like weeping for joy, but kept from making a sound as he rushed to the cell. "You were right, milady! The pipe was in the wardroom, watched over by all the soldiers not on guard, but your rucksack was just thrown in the storeroom with the flour and malt. No one was even watching it." Quickly slipping the leather bag in between the bars, he watched as she tore it open and pulled out the shoes. They seemed to glow and shimmer even more powerfully in the torchlight.

"Have I done well, milady?" The wolf smiled, looking so eager to please she had to laugh softly.

"Yes, you have. Now get back to your post, and we'll act as soon as the shift change happens."

They had just hidden the rucksack under the bunk, and Andrew had resumed his former position, when another red-cloaked guard, with broad shoulders and a powerful barrel chest, appeared at the end of the hallway. Their wolven ally strode at once to meet him, his steps as regimented and unwavering as if he were a loyal soldier and had not just committed treason against Carmine. Standing between the cell and his superior officer to block his view, he drew him into a quick consultation of some sort.

Virginia didn't even try to hear what was being said. Hurriedly she slipped the shoes on and grabbed the Piper's shoulder. In seconds they had vanished into invisibility. Now all they had to do was wait.

They didn't have to wait long. Turning away from Andrew, the other soldier glanced down the hallway and saw what appeared to be an empty cell. He snarled a rancid oath. "You fool, you've let the prisoners escape! Sound the alarm!" Without waiting to see if his orders were obeyed, he ran to the cell, the keys already coming free from his belt and rattling in his hand as he searched for the right one.

It was so easy it made Virginia want to giggle—or was that the shoes again? The soldier threw open the door and burst inside, looking around wildly for some sign of how they had escaped. As a result, he was unprepared when Colin lifted a fallen stone from the crumbling wall and bashed him in the head. He went down without a sound.

Before she could congratulate the Piper, he had grabbed the keys and was dragging her out of the cell. Once the door was locked again, with the unconscious guard inside, he led the way down the hall to where Andrew kept watch for any other soldiers, scratching unobtrusively at his temple. "All right, Andrew, get to wherever it is you need to be, so you will have an alibi. You have done a good deed tonight, and we shall never forget it. Someday you will be rewarded, I will make certain of it."

Beaming, the wolven corporal nodded eagerly. "You're very welcome. Good luck, milady. All of the Kingdoms are counting on you—and best wishes to your mate and cub!" With that, he darted back down the passage and disappeared.

Grinning from ear to ear, buoyed up by their success, Virginia nudged Colin in his invisible ribs. "Maybe there is destiny after all. Come on, let's go find your pipe and rescue Wolf."


	9. Eight: Escape from the Dungeon

**Eight**: Escape from the Dungeon

Groaning weakly as he awoke, Wolf became conscious at once of the constant waves of pain assailing him from all directions. First came the dull, persistent ache in his shoulders and the crushing pressure on his wrists, both caused by the manacles that kept his hands raised over his head as he dangled helplessly from the wall. Then came the stinging, burning sensation of the wounds crisscrossing his bare back—with the preternatural clarity born of torture, he could feel each individual laceration, and the memory of each blow of the whip that had created them was just as vivid. The cool stone blocks against which he slumped did not soothe the wounds, but instead aggravated them. He whimpered softly.

Last of all came the internal pains, the powerful hunger that gnawed at his stomach and the unquenchable thirst that plagued his throat, both of which could not be satisfied, as the plate of raw meat and bowl of water which the guards had brought him were placed just out of reach of his chains. He growled audibly. Just as strong were certain other natural urges which he struggled valiantly to restrain; he was surprised he had not voided himself while he had been passed out.

There was no sump or chamberpot or anything resembling them in sight. There were no fixtures at all in the cell, with only dusty straw scattered across the floor for a bed—which, considering his current predicament, was rather redundant. He couldn't lie down anywhere, and if he could it would be directly below the wall, where he would be relieving himself if he could not hold it. It was like being in a stable, a pen for a vicious and filthy animal.

Which was what he was, according to Red Riding Hood.

A pain-wracked howl escaped his throat as he threw his head back toward the ceiling. Gnashing his teeth, he snarled. How dare she! Huff-puff, everything she had said with those perfectly formed lips (good enough to bite right off!) had matched his own inner voice, that had always told him he was a nasty and horrible beast. But he refused to believe it, not now, not when she said it. He longed to clutch her by the throat and force her to recant her hateful venom. The only problem was, if he did that, he would be proving her right about the savagery of wolves!

Now he wanted to scratch at his temple, and couldn't do that either.

Wolf wrenched and jerked at his chains, trying to dislodge the bolts that held him to the wall, but they seemed to be the only thing in this ancient fortress that was not weakened by age, and refused to budge. Finally, panting and whimpering, he collapsed again, which only increased the stretching and near-dislocation of his shoulders.

He was still suspended there, trying to think of some way to keep from focusing on the pain without counting sheep (a dangerous proposition in his current state of hunger) when he heard the faint strains of music, somewhere in the corridor outside his cell. Frowning, he inclined his head and listened. The music was languid, somnolent and smooth, very quiet and monotonous, and it almost put him to sleep to listen to it. It also sounded very familiar.

The pipe grew slightly louder, as if the musician were approaching, and Wolf expected the guards outside his cell to cut the song short with a brusque command and the point of a spearhead, but oddly enough they remained silent. After a long moment, the music reached the door to the cell and paused—and then to his shock he heard the sound of the key in the lock!

With a rusty whine of unoiled hinges, the door creaked open to reveal—nothing. No, wait—a strange shimmering, barely perceptible to his sharp eyes and completely undetectable to human eyes, passing in front of the forms of the guards, who appeared to be frozen stiff in some sort of trance. At the same time he caught a whiff of a delectable, delightful, divine, excruciatingly sweet scent he would never forget, that of his beloved Virginia! And...he rolled his eyes. Underneath it, the scent of the Piper as well. They had come to rescue him, wearing the Troll King's magic shoes! Never before had he been so glad those foul pieces of footwear were around.

But at once a strange emotion surged through his veins, jealousy, followed quickly by fury. _He_ was the one who was supposed to save Virginia, _he_ was the one who had rescued her multiple times! It was supposed to be up to him to interpose himself between his mate and terrible danger. But no, now it was the stupid shoes that would garner all the praise—them and the Piper! That truly made his blood boil, that that sniveling, arrogant princeling would not only be the one to receive Virginia's thanks for the rescue, but that he himself owed his life and freedom to the Piper...

The thud of the cell door closing jarred him from his irrational thoughts, and he looked up just as the whirling golden light of the shoes' magic filled the air. In seconds Virginia was standing there, looking triumphant as she held the shoes in her hands. Behind her the Piper took his pipe from his lips, but it continued to glow with a silvery shimmer and give off a low, soft note as it had in the cavern in the mountains.

Virginia pulled away from the Piper, as if glad not to be in contact with him any longer than necessary. Then she dashed to Wolf's side, tears in her eyes as she took in his condition at a glance. "Oh, Wolf, what have they done to you?" Hurriedly she unlocked the manacles and he slumped into her arms. She embraced him at once, causing him to wince.

"Careful, my love," he whispered huskily.

Biting her lip, she pulled back and reached up to cradle his face in her hands, lifting his chin as she pressed her lips to his. There was an unusual fervency in her kiss, a passion and desperation that surprised him. Their ordeal had been trying, but they had not been separated that long... He rolled his eyes. What was he thinking? _Any_ amount of time away from his dreamy, creamy girl was sheer agony for him, and he knew she felt the same way.

Gasping, he finally broke the kiss and stroked her forehead and cheeks, brushed her hair back from her face as he gazed at her searchingly. Swallowing his pride, he smiled. "I knew you would come for me. But how did you manage it, sweetheart? The shoes, the pipe, they had to be well-guarded!"

Virginia looked somehow embarrassed, but then she smirked slightly. "Let's just say that not all of Red Riding Hood's men have no hearts. Some of them are so honorable, you might think they were wolves."

Wolf stared at her in amazement, his heart racing with an excitement he had never thought he'd feel. "Goodness gracious me—do you mean...? The wolven resistance! I knew they were strong in number and brave in deeds, and I have heard so many tales of their fight for justice, but I never suspected they had spies and agents right here in the palace!"

Admiration surged in his heart for these unknown wolves who risked their lives and the chance of discovery to stay close to Carmine and ensure that her cruelest orders and laws were blunted and softened, or never carried out at all.

Nodding in agreement, Virginia retrieved his shirt from the floor where the guards had thrown it earlier and handed it to him as she helped him stagger to his feet. "I was pretty sure he couldn't be the only wolf here. Anyway, he brought us the shoes and we used them to escape. Then it was easy to steal Colin's pipe from the wardroom, and he was able to enchant the guards. So as soon as you're ready, we can just walk right out of the palace. No one can stop us."

It sounded wonderful. But Wolf wasn't ready to leave just yet. No, after all the pain and anguish and torment of his past being dredged back to the surface, after all of his old wounds had been reopened, after the way his aunt had treated them all—but especially his beloved Virginia—after all of this, his soul cried out for a reckoning. Red Riding Hood owed them for all she had done, and her account was incredibly delinquent.

"No! We're not leaving!" Clutching the shirt with both hands and snarling, he hastily put it on and started buttoning it. "You think I'm just going to let that trollop get away with her crimes again? Not a chance! Not a chance in a straw-built pig house!" Running his hand through his sweat-soaked hair, he turned away and began stalking about the cell.

Virginia watched him anxiously. "Wolf..."

"What?"

She rolled her eyes. "We have to get out of here! My father and Wendell, and all the Kingdoms, need us! If we waste time here trying to clear your name or bring the queen to justice..." She trailed off helplessly.

"You think I don't know that?" Wolf wheeled about, and he could feel the animal nature growing dominant inside his heart; he knew his eyes had turned golden and inhuman by Virginia's reaction, but at the moment he didn't care. "But if we don't do something now, we'll never get a chance like this again."

"What chance?" Virginia snapped, her temper rising as well. "What can we possibly do here? Everyone hates wolves, no one would believe us! And where would we stay while we were here? We can't use the pipe and the shoes to stay hidden forever, and no one would take us in."

Wolf scratched at his temple vehemently, a strange sense of relief at being free to do this again filling him. It calmed him—a little. "Well, we aren't going to be any safer if we just take off for the Sixth Kingdom! Don't you think Her Majesty will send soldiers after us as soon as it's known we escaped? And we can't count on Piper-boy being able to protect us." He glared at the Piper. "You'd be lying to me if you said you could control the whole palace, let alone all of Incarnadine. Because that's what you'd have to do to keep us safe."

Colin frowned and looked down, unable to meet his gaze. "You have a point. My great-grandfather could control thousands and millions of rats, but they have primitive minds, and I don't possess his facility with magic." Finally lifting his eyes, he jutted out his chin pugnaciously. "What do you suggest we do, then?"

Wolf had been waiting for this opening; his cunning mind had been darting through all the possibilities even as he'd been speaking, and he knew exactly what they had to do. It was the only way out—and besides, it would let him get the revenge he craved. "Simple, princey. We need a shield, a hostage, someone to give us a little insurance policy so no one would dare harm us."

Even before he had finished, he could tell they knew what he intended. Both of them stood frozen in disbelief, and then they both burst into speech at the same time.

"Are you insane?" Virginia cried.

"Are you mad?" the Piper gasped.

"We can't take the queen with us! Do you realize how much trouble that would cause?" Virginia balled her fist and punched him in the shoulder none too gently, apparently forgetting the abuse he'd suffered. "She'd slow us down, and we'd have to watch her all the time. We'd never make it to the dragon, and even if we did, what would we do with her then?"

Wolf was tempted to suggest feeding Red Riding Hood to the beast, but instead he replied bluntly, "Do you have any better ideas? I can't think of a better way to get out of the palace, and the city. None of Red's advisers or sycophants are worth taking with us, and no one would care if they got hurt while we were being recaptured. The only one I can think of with enough importance to warrant caution in the guards is the general of Carmine's army—and he's far too strong for us to overpower him. No one would suspect us of going after the queen, and at this time of night she's sure to be unguarded."

The Piper blanched, his eyes wide in horror, and he gripped his pipe until his hands trembled. "I never thought the rumors about wolves were true, especially after you acted so nobly to save King Wendell, but this is lunacy! And the moon is not even full—what are you, rabid?"

Snarling, he bared his fangs at Colin, making him rear back and press against the wall. Wolf glared at him hatefully. If his magic were not necessary to gain access to the queen...

Turning back to Virginia, he expected her to raise another objection, but strangely she did not. Although she had her hand to her forehead in frustration, he could tell by the curve of her shoulders that she had resigned herself to this course of action. But why? Had he been that convincing?

Suddenly she began muttering under her breath. "So that's what she meant..."

"Who?"

"Snow White."

Wolf blinked, his anger and lust for vengeance fading into confusion. "What? She visited you again?"

Virginia nodded absently. "Sort of. In my cell, I had a dream...and she told me lots of things. One of them was that all of us, and Red Riding Hood, are tied together by destiny. And twice she spoke of hostages. I thought she was just being metaphorical, but maybe not. Maybe she knew this was the only way for us to escape, and have any chance of restoring your good name." Her morose expression did not seem at all in keeping with her words; clearly she was still not happy with the latest developments.

He wasn't exactly pleased either; the last thing he wanted was to be connected to Carmine any more than he had to be. Kidnapping her for revenge and to earn his pardon was one thing, but to know he was bound by destiny to that ruthless, wolf-murdering temptress brought out his feral side and made him want to find some wild animal to shred. But who was he to argue with the greatest queen who ever lived?

"Well, Missy White is right, Virginia, and you should always listen to your fairy godmother," Wolf hastily agreed, nodding sagely. "Besides, look at it this way: now you can get back at Red for all those nasty things she said about you." Normally he would never want to remind his sensitive mate of anyone who had hurt her, or advocate a vindictive spirit in his one true love, but this was an exception. Live and let live might be his usual philosophy, but when it came to Carmine, the past could not be forgotten. Still, he did wonder if Virginia would be upset with him.

He needn't have worried. The doubt and uncertainty were fading fast from Virginia's eyes, to be replaced by a gleam of almost delightful wickedness. A slow grin answered his words, and then she chuckled. "Yeah...you're absolutely right, Wolf. It's time for me to take charge again. She won't have power over me anymore. I guide my own destiny."

The Piper was glancing back and forth between them, even more distraught. "I don't believe it...milady, you too are a party to this hazardous undertaking?"

Wolf flashed his eyes at the prince warningly, but only smirked. Finally he was leading the mission again, and with this one stroke he would both safely conclude their escape and help Virginia pay back the queen for each and every insult she had given. Now who was the better rescuer? "Sorry, Piper-boy, but it looks like you're outvoted. So if you're done whining, we have work to do. Right, Virginia?"

Seeing the look on Virginia's face, one of malicious glee, the Piper gave up at last. "Very well, but if matters go awry, do not say I did not warn you!"

The Piper raised his instrument to his lips and began to play once more, and Virginia donned the shoes, then reached out to touch him (with a certain reluctance that made Wolf wonder if Colin had done something to offend her which he, as her mate, ought to know about). As Wolf in turn placed his hand on Virginia's shoulder, just in time to be swallowed by the vortex of magic, he whispered. "Duly noted. Now let's go snare us a Hood!"

* * *

A lone torch marked the fifth floor landing of the stairwell, guttering fitfully in a rusted sconce bolted to a stone stained with years of soot and ash. The sound of the crackling flames seemed deafening in the tomb-like stillness of the castle, and Wolf was careful to make absolutely no noise as he led the Piper and Virginia up the last few steps to the polished oak door that opened onto the royal suite. Pausing, he peered back down the tower, sniffing the air and listening intently to check for any signs of pursuit.

They had left the dungeon and ascended into the upper wings of the palace with relative ease—between the invisibility of the shoes and Colin's pipe, which caused every soldier that detected their presence to forget them as soon as they were past, they had made great progress toward their goal. Still, he was not about to get cocky and overconfident; someone could still come upon them and then things would get very messy.

After several tense minutes in which he heard nothing but the settling of stones and smelled only dust and mold, Wolf nodded to himself and turned back to the door. Shushing the others, he reached out and turned the wrought-iron handle, expecting a rusty creak, but to his relief the door opened without a sound.

Beyond, he could see a long, square corridor extending into the distance, shadowed and ominous in the early hours of the morning. Only his sharp wolven eyes could detect the regal, sumptuous furnishings—an ornate mirror hung above a maple sideboard...a marble bench...a thick red-gold expanse of carpeting...a series of intricate chandeliers suspended from the ceiling, their crystals tinkling and clinking in a ghostly breath of wind...several exquisite paintings of gloomy forest scenes and portraits...

At the far end of the hallway, an enormous dormer window draped with muslin curtains (which appeared black in the darkness but were surely some shade of red) allowed the faint light of the stars to bathe the floor in a mullioned patch of silver. It was also the source of the wind, for the sash was raised several inches for a breath of cool night air.

From that end of the hall there came a soft rustle of clothing. Wolf pressed himself against the doorjamb as a faint light appeared. Someone with an oil lamp...! The light grew stronger, then resolved itself into a soft halo shining around the slender form of a woman clutching a thick, velvet brocade robe around herself. It was Red Riding Hood.

Very slowly Wolf reached down to the sheath he had appropriated from one of his guards and removed a very large and incredibly sharp knife. Flexing his fingers around the hilt, he stepped through the doorway into the hall, Virginia and the Piper on his heels.

Closer he crept, his sense of anticipation rising with every step, until he was only a few feet away from the queen. At that moment she stopped, head tilted, a small furrow on her classical forehead. Obviously she had heard his footsteps. After several minutes, she shook her head and turned back toward her bedchamber. Instantly he followed her.

Carmine stopped again and turned back, her silhouette silvered by the starlight. Wolf grinned, knowing she couldn't see him.

"Who's there?" Her voice was crisp and imperious.

Wolf waited as the queen did. Then she shook herself, as if berating herself for imagining things, and started down the corridor again. He followed, picking up his pace.

Red Riding Hood stopped for the third time, clearly spooked. "I repeat, who is there?" Now her voice trembled with fear.

This time, Wolf continued forward, knife raised. The queen shrank back from the sound of the footsteps, but he was moving too quickly, breaking free of Virginia and sprinting rapidly. He leaped at his aunt in a rush, emerging from the vortex of magic without breaking his stride. Seeing a man appear out of thin air, then recognizing him, she opened her mouth to scream.

"Oh no, you don't!" he hissed. In a blur of motion he grabbed her from behind, covered her mouth, and placed the gleaming knife blade to her throat, making her drop the oil lamp. Thanks to the carpet, it did not break, not that he would have cared if the whole palace burned down. He snarled as she bit deeply into his hand, but did not let go, instead dragging her into the nearest room.

It was the queen's boudoir, even more vain and lavish than the hallway, with curtains and tapestries on all the walls, a magnificent chestnut wardrobe, several walk-in closets, and a vanity table large enough for a whole troupe of queens. Snorting, Wolf put his lips to Carmine's ear to whisper, just barely resisting the urge to bite it. "I will uncover your mouth and release you if you promise not to scream. If you do, then you will find out whether your blood is the blue of royalty or the red of your sins." For emphasis he grazed the tender skin of her throat with the edge of the blade.

He could feel the rage and terror conflicting in her frame, making it twitch and shake, as she slowly nodded. Baring his fangs, he let her go, then licked the blood trickling along his hand, hoping fervently she would try something.

Red Riding Hood was attempting to regain her dignity and restore her state of dishabille—her robe had come open during the struggle, revealing a scarlet negligee of silk trimmed with chenille that clung to her every petite and luscious curve—when the door closed and, in a haze of golden light, Virginia and the Piper appeared. They seemed startled, and she still wore the shoes on her feet, so their manifestation had not been planned. The shoes had given out. Wolf had wondered when that would finally happen.

"You!" The queen's eyes blazed with hate as she glared at Virginia. "How did you escape? How did all of you escape?" She swept the room with her accusatory gaze.

Virginia hesitated a moment, then smirked. "With magic. And a wolf gave it to us...one of your own guards."

Carmine went deathly still, her eyes bulging from their sockets. With a distinct sense of pleasure, Wolf watched the flush build up her snowy breasts, into her throat, then flooding out across her cheeks, deepening to an unattractive purple. He wondered if she would suffer apoplexy and save them all a lot of trouble. He hadn't had this much fun in years!

"You...you're lying! That's impossible! None of my loyal men could be one of those horrible beasts...I would know!" The queen spluttered and spat, stamping her slippered feet and balling her fists in a temper tantrum, but the panic and fury in her expression revealed she knew it was the truth. Finally, with a shriek of outrage, she leaped toward Virginia.

For a split second Wolf considered throwing the knife directly between Red Riding Hood's shoulderblades, but he knew that would be the coward's way out, and would make all of this for naught. So instead he threw the dagger just ahead of her running feet. Horrified, she drew up short and stumbled, trying to regain her balance.

In her moment of inattention Virginia strode calmly up to her. "Better watch where you're stepping, Your Majesty. Now, if you will permit me, I have something to give you." Without warning she hauled back and slapped the queen across the cheek. "That was for what you did to Wolf." She slapped the other cheek. "And that was for what you did to me."

Flabbergasted and indignant, Red Riding Hood lost her balance completely and fell backwards, landing in an ignominious heap on her royal posterior. Wolf could not help himself—he burst out laughing. Somehow Carmine managed to become even more furious and flushed as she scrambled up onto a leather settee. Rearranging her negligee, she snapped, "How dare you...attacking the royal person, invading my privacy, making a mockery of me...!"

Virginia had her arms crossed over her chest, and she responded in a frigid, bitter tone. "Because you deserved it. And you deserve so much more after what you've done."

In that moment she sounded so much like her mother that Wolf actually took a step back, eyeing her warily. Yet at the same time he was so very proud of her for taking control and being the strong, formidable woman he knew her to be.

Scratching at his temple, he turned on the queen and snarled, emboldened by having the upper hand at last. "And not only that, Auntie Carmine, but you have prevented us from accomplishing a very vital mission for King Wendell. We're going to be on our way now to carry it out, but before we left we thought you should know there are some very pressing matters you must see to in the most western part of your kingdom. I'm certain you've never been there, other than when you burned my father and your sister, so you may not know the way. But never fear, we'll be passing through there on our way to the Sixth Kingdom, and we'd be glad to guide you." He flashed his golden irises. "In fact we insist."

Red Riding Hood's anger faded into disbelief, shock, and horror as the meaning of his words sank in. "You wouldn't!"

"Oh yes, I would!" Wolf crossed the room, knelt down, and plucked the knife from the carpet, bringing it up to her bodice. "You see, we can't be quite sure that your soldiers will allow us to go in peace, and nothing must further hinder our path. You, Auntie, will grant us safe passage. It's the least you can do for your nephew and his mate...and along the way you can, I'm sure, see fit to make a few alterations in my record. Don't worry, once I've been pardoned I'll make sure you're left in a nice, safe place."

The queen stared at him incredulously. "You must be joking, or out of your mind! I would sooner die than help you in any way, shape, or form—let alone pardon you!"

Wolf growled, very softly, and snatched her wrists. She struggled, but he refused to release her. "That can be arranged, Your Majesty. And it will be unless you come with us. It's time for you to live up to your name. You must have a riding dress and hood somewhere in your wardrobe. Let's take them out of mothballs and give them a nice airing out with a spring ride, shall we?"

"No! No, I refuse!" Carmine glared down at him wrathfully, and despite his confidence he was shaken by the level of hatred in her eyes. How could such a beautiful woman be so filled with murderous thoughts? Yet he also detected a note of uncertainty, of self-doubt, in her eyes.

That would be what he would exploit.

Slowly rising until his eyes were level with hers, he pushed her back against the vanity and trained his wolven irises on her human ones, burrowing in, asserting control, gaining dominance over her will. He spoke seductively, firmly, in his voice of Persuasion, as he had done with Virginia's waitress friend Candy nine months before in the storeroom of the Grill on the Green. "Oh no, you are coming with us. You are most certainly coming with us."

It took much longer than it had with that imbecilic blonde to break Red Riding Hood's determination, but after ten minutes she finally went limp in his grip and nodded in acquiescence. Not daring to take his eyes off of her, he spoke to Virginia and Colin without turning his head. "Fetch one of those frilly scarves and the curtain ties...we don't want our traveling companion to run away or call an alarm, now do we?"

As the others complied and then returned to bind and gag the now-docile queen, Wolf finally relaxed and smiled almost amiably at Carmine. "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it? We're going to go down to the stables now, nice and casual, and fetch some horses to speed us on our way. Won't we?"

Red Riding Hood nodded mutely, anger seething and roiling behind the complacency in her eyes—and something else, an emotion that made her eyes glisten and caused tears to trickle down her cheeks...

* * *

Clasping her pale hands behind her slim, narrow back, the Ice Queen turned from yet another gloating examination of Wendell's frozen form to stride back toward the throne, a smug expression on her pursed lips. She had taken to observing and circling her ensorcelled prizes at least once a day, rather like a moth attracted to flame or a doctor studying a curious specimen. With a touch here and there, she reveled in the coldness of the ice and the fear she drank in from every countenance.

And she had more victims to delight in, for added now to the ranks of Wendell's advisers were the monarchs of three other Kingdoms, each of which had answered her spurious letters with the alacrity she had expected. The temptations she had offered them had been so obvious, she had to laugh mockingly yet again. To be fair the inducements she had dangled before Olaf and Alberich had been legitimate and plausible—the same lure, in fact, the magic mirrors which had belonged to the Evil Queen. The Elf had wanted them for history and sorcery, while the Dwarf had wanted to seal them in the mines where they could never harm the Kingdoms again. But both of them had been trapped by her spell.

The Naked Emperor's Great-Grandson had been even more easily captured; all she'd had to do was suggest Wendell was holding a Sausage Festival and wanted to consult with his tailor and the cretin had rushed to the Fourth Kingdom so rapidly he almost left his servants and their ostrich feathers behind.

Now there were only three remaining. Leaf Fall had accompanied Olaf, and neither Old King Cole nor Fritz, the grandson of Queen Gretel, were a threat. She could track them down at her leisure, once she had caught the final three and extended the icy grip of her glorious winter across the land. And the letters that would summon her remaining enemies were even now receiving the finishing touches.

With a confident air she turned to the massive desk that had been placed at the foot of the dais, where a trembling, aged servant struggled to control his quivering hand enough to dip his quill in the inkwell. After watching him with amusement for some time, she said, "Have you finished?"

The poor man nearly leaped out of his seat, and his hand just missed overturning the inkwell. Nodding disjointedly, he hunched down over the desk. "Y-yes...w-would you like to read them?"

Smiling maliciously, the Ice Queen strode to his side, gathered the three letters up, and began to peruse their contents. The first two were relatively simple; the idiot children of Relish had been clamoring for their father's body to be returned to the Third Kingdom for proper burial, while Cinderella had long desired her grandson Wendell to choose a wife. A promise for an exhumation on the one hand and another for a royal ball which all eligible maidens would attend would be enough to draw out the wary Trolls and the reclusive monarch of the First Kingdom.

The final letter was her favorite, though, she had to admit. Red Riding Hood III was vain and arrogant, nearly as convinced of her own elitism as the Ice Queen herself. It would take special handling to appeal to her pride without arousing her paranoid suspicions. But an unexpected windfall had allowed the Witch of Winter access to the inner workings of Red's mind. When her demons had combed the palace, they had discovered Lord Rupert in the Evil Queen's hidden alcove, attempting to use her magic mirrors. The Ice Queen had not believed for a second his story that he was acting alone, he was far too much a coward to take such initiative. So she had appropriated the Spying mirror and, after compelling Rupert to give her the proper command, had sought out the one who had last used it.

Glancing sideways, the Ice Queen ran her eyes over the massive oval mirror that stood beside the desk, then shifted her gaze to the other four mirrors that formed a semicircle around the dais. It had felt so invigorating to tap into their immense, ancient power, multiplying her own! And with the Spying mirror, she had discovered the only threat remaining to her rule: the Lady Virginia.

She had heard of the young girl even in the distant reaches of the Eighth Kingdom, a girl from another realm who had almost single-handedly defeated the Evil Queen and saved all the rulers of the Kingdoms. It boggled her mind, when she first saw Virginia's image in the Disenchanted Forest, that such a slip of a girl could contain such power and ingenuity, but she had learned never to underestimate her enemies.

And the longer she watched Virginia's quest, the more she began to grow disturbed, even fearful. As she dealt with every threat assailing her—the Trolls, the Pied Piper—the Ice Queen had realized she might very well have met her match, and if she and her wolven lover were to find the magic they sought (the magic she dreaded), her entire plan could crumble to pieces, and she herself might lose her life.

But to her intense relief, the travelers had been arrested by Red Riding Hood's men, taken to her palace, and imprisoned. And it was then, observing the confrontation between the queen of the Second Kingdom and Virginia the Fair, that the Ice Queen had gained the inspiration for the final letter.

Smirking, the Ice Queen recalled how pitiful the young girl had seemed against Red's prejudice and obstinacy, her words falling on deaf ears, her anger only provoking the queen to greater hatred and fury. When she and her companions had been dragged from the throne room, the Ice Queen had refrained from watching their adventure further—for it had clearly been aborted, declining to its futile end in the depths of a dungeon from which Virginia would never escape. Yet the end to her threat did not excuse Lord Rupert from punishment, for he had aided her enemy and then lied to her.

Peering at Lord Rupert's anguished visage where he stood frozen in ice just to the right of the Spying mirror, the Ice Queen chuckled in brittle satisfaction and then began reading aloud from the final letter, the letter whose words echoed Red Riding Hood's own speech to the Lady Virginia: "Dear Red, I hope this missive reaches you in good health and fortune, for I have disturbing news to relay to you. Certain facts have come to light about the Lady Virginia that have made honoring her as a heroine a grave error. Suffice it to say that, like her mother, she possesses the powers of sorcery and has been weaving her spell for some considerable time, holding sway over my will.

"Far from saving the Nine Kingdoms, she plans to conquer them all by subterfuge and deceit, double-crossing the Evil Queen so as to gain our trust and then betray it. I have broken free of her enchantment and exiled her from my Kingdom, as well as Wolf, and Lord Anthony has disowned her. Furthermore, I have rescinded the pardon of wolves. Therefore, I would be most grateful if you would visit me at my palace and convey to me a list of all wolves who have fled your Kingdom to take sanctuary in my own, so that we may mete out proper justice. In addition, if you should be approached by Virginia in any capacity, I would suggest you prosecute her to the full extent of your laws. Wolf, of course, is now subject to the treason charge he so rightly deserves. I look forward to our rencounter. With respectful affection, King Wendell the First of the Fourth Kingdom."

Setting the letter down on the desk, the Ice Queen nodded in approval. "Excellent, you have followed my instructions perfectly and earned yourself another day of freedom. Now...seal the letters, and prepare them for delivery."

Almost fainting in gratitude, the scribe quickly began folding the sheets of parchment. Ignoring him completely, the Ice Queen turned back to the Spying mirror and ran her cold hands over the granite and wrought-iron frame, feeling the power dormant inside. "You are mine...yes, you are mine. And so are the Kingdoms. Now nothing stands in my way."

Behind her the scribe finished heating Wendell's signet ring and began sealing the hot wax with horrifying, disconcerting sizzles.

"Mine...all mine..."


	10. Nine: The May Queen's Gift

**Nine**: The May Queen's Gift

Gripping the reins of his weary, mud-splattered saddle horse, the Piper kept his eyes firmly fixed on the road winding through the heath ahead, guiding his mount and the mare at his side by instinct alone. Refusing to look at his charge, he turned his stoic face to the western sky, which remained churning with stormy gray clouds sodden with the rain to come. As if there had not been rain enough!

Wiping his dripping cheeks, he finally glanced at Red Riding Hood, perched sidesaddle on the mare, her back stiff and her beautiful face set with stern haughtiness. Now she was the one ignoring him, like some petty servant beneath her notice. How insufferable! Nevermind that her hands were now tied in front of her with thick hemp rope—she sat in the saddle as if this were only a pleasant jaunt into the countryside, wearing her scarlet doeskin riding clothes and fur-lined velvet hood as if they were the finest regal robes and she was the leader of the mission.

And what a mission it was turning out to be! On the one hand, when he had decided to accompany Virginia and Wolf on their journey to the Sixth Kingdom and beyond, Colin had known it would be dangerous and trying, and he had even relished it as a chance to escape the boredom and nonentity of his life. But on the other hand, he had not counted on such developments as had occurred—not only their unexpected capture by soldiers of the House of Red and imprisonment in the queen's dungeons, but the abduction of the queen from her own palace!

His thoughts trailed back over the tense, nerve-wracking escape the three of them and their prisoner had made from Incarnadine, what seemed but a few short hours ago but was in fact two days. Following Carmine's hurried exchange of nightclothes for riding clothes, the three of them had escorted her none too gently down the halls and stairwells of the palace. Not until they achieved the third floor did they encounter any resistance, so that their uncertainty and worry were keyed at a fever pitch when the first soldier spied them. Wolf had not even given the man a chance to sound the alarm, leaping forward to slash his throat from ear to ear, and the guard had collapsed in a gurgle of blood.

Several more soldiers had been felled in a similar manner before they had met a contingent of sentries too numerous to attack. At that point Wolf had changed tactics, menacing Red Riding Hood's throat instead with the knife as he dragged her along the corridor. Weapons bristling, the guards had only been able to stand by helplessly as Virginia and the Piper had followed, disappearing backwards down another staircase.

In the early morning hours just before dawn the company had passed through the deserted throne room and the vast royal kitchens, startling a sleepy cook just stoking up the fires on the massive hearths and rolling out bread dough for the morning meal. Then they had slipped out the servants' entrance and crossed the courtyard to the stables. There a frightened ostler had been compelled to procure and outfit four saddle horses with tack and provisions for the journey west. It was at this point that the scarf and curtain ties had been traded for ropes.

Once outside the palace, it had been relatively easy to trot through the city streets to the western gate, and beyond the wall they had burst into a gallop, much to the queen's annoyance. But before they had even cleared the first hill, they had heard the raucous clanging of a bell somewhere in Incarnadine and the roar of angry voices as the garrison began to gather for pursuit. As one they had streaked ahead with the crescent disk of the rising sun shining from behind them to light the way, unwilling to count on the danger to the queen's life to keep arrows from being fired at their unprotected backs.

For the next two days they had ridden pell-mell across the countryside, through hamlets and villages, across winding streams, under ancient stone arches of crumbling ruins, choosing roads what seemed at random to the Piper, who was soon hopelessly lost. But Wolf chose the way without pause, angling them ever northwestward, dodging them off the path again and again, doubling back and moving in circles to throw off their trackers.

Finally they had plunged through a thick expanse of forest and emerged on a lonely stretch of heath with a single narrow road. Only then had Wolf slowed them to a walk, allowing them to catch their breath. The Piper had been grateful, since he had been tired of eating on the run and only catching a few short hours of sleep.

One thing he was not grateful for, however, was that through all of the harrowing flight, into the reaches of the Red Riding Hood Forest, at the campfire the previous night, he had been given the queen as his ward and expected to keep her under close guard. He had been expected to check her bonds, keep her secure on the back of her horse, and otherwise maintain her well-being—a chore he did not relish at all.

But although he was offended at being demoted to the role of jailor, and did not at all appreciate the threatening manner in which he had been ordered about—he could still feel Wolf's hot breath on his face and see the gleam of light on his fangs—the Piper could not blame Wolf and Virginia for their actions. After what Carmine had done to them, they would naturally not wish to be in close quarters with her, and it would be too tempting to harm her if she was under their care. Moreover, foisting the queen off on him would cause him to keep his distance as well—something both of his companions desired.

Colin sighed. He knew why Wolf avoided him—trying to steal away his mate had not been the best of circumstances for a first meeting, and Wolf also seemed to feel contempt toward any and all members of the aristocracy. As for Virginia, that momentary lapse of judgment in their cell that had led to such intimacy had created a wall between them. Virginia was taking no chances, and in her self-loathing and discomfort she kept herself sealed away from him throughout their travels by silence and warning glances.

But far more unbearable was another wall that had been erected—one between Wolf and Virginia. Flicking his eyes surreptitiously, the Piper could see them riding along the road, focused only on the route ahead, not speaking, barely acknowledging one another. It had been like that for all of the last two days, the division between them palpable, almost visible. To be sure they had not maintained complete separation. There were moments when they conferred about what lay in store for them all in the Sixth Kingdom and which way they should go, moments when they exchanged tidbits of food almost shyly, moments—such as at the campfire the previous evening—when they even held hands and caressed each other's cheeks.

Yet somehow the magic, the spark, the undeniable love they shared, seemed stale and empty now, as if the hearts that had fueled it had run dry. When they touched each other, the charge seemed grounded, and it was as if two people were kept apart by a layer of glass, thin yet unbreakable, unable to truly touch. There was a barrier against their love.

And he knew the source of that barrier, or at least a major cause. Colin bowed his head and engrossed himself in following the swirls and loops of the intricate leather designs of his saddle horn. It was he. He was the reason Wolf and Virginia were no longer as close as they had once been. Wolf's sudden bloodlust and thirst for vengeance had most likely contributed to it, seeing as Virginia was normally a peaceful, loving woman who would be confused and dismayed by his current attitude. But the initial reason, the main thrust of the wedge grinding into their love, was the Piper and the kiss Virginia had almost given him.

Or rather, the lie of omission concerning it. For the kiss itself was meaningless, it represented no true emotions, and considering how lustful wolves were thought to be, Wolf would most likely understand unwanted desires and the temptation to give in to them. At least Colin hoped so; he also knew wolves mated for life, and he had no idea how difficult Wolf and Virginia's courtship had been, whether loyalty was an issue for them.

The bards had glossed over such things when they told the tale of the Four Who Saved the Nine Kingdoms; perhaps no one knew such private details. In any case, what Colin was certain would bother and distress Wolf was the lie itself, the fact that Virginia had not been honest with him. It suggested perhaps the kiss did mean something after all, and signified Virginia still lacked trust in him. And from the broken words Virginia had uttered in their cell when she opened her heart and soul to the Piper, he knew she had trouble trusting—herself or others. The fact that she was lying to Wolf must be eating away at her acutely.

Biting his lip, the Piper fought back tears. He had never meant for such a thing to happen. While a small part of him—the selfish, arrogant part that felt he was entitled to whatever his heart desired—had secretly held out hope that his pipe had indeed called his true mate, and that if he simply spent enough time with her she would fall in love with him, the rest of Colin knew Virginia and Wolf belonged together. His duty as a prince and as a moral man insisted upon preserving their love.

They were heroes, their love was ordained by destiny, the beginning of a new Golden Age, and their child needed a happy, stable family. And he had jeopardized that. Yet he had no idea how to rectify the situation, to undo the evil he had caused—particularly when he could not approach the matter without revealing Virginia's lie. He felt like tearing his hair out at the roots. How could he have embroiled himself in such a quandary? What sort of man was he to allow such a turn of events?

"Piper!" The imperious, superior tone of voice that broke into his tortured thoughts could be noneother than Riding Hood's. Gritting his teeth, he turned and looked at the auburn-haired monarch, who was pointedly holding out her bound hands. "My wrists are being rubbed raw, and my bloodflow is being cut off; I am feeling faint. The ropes are too tight, you must loosen them."

He gave her a withering stare. Did she think he was that naive? He was not about to give her such a chance to escape. And this was but one in a long line of complaints with which the queen had accosted him. Carmine's food was too cold or too hot, too spicy or not properly cut. The air was too chilly, the ground too uneven, her horse's back was too bony, its saddle did not have the elegance befitting a queen. With this newest grievance, the Piper was on the verge of losing his temper and striking Red Riding Hood himself.

Yet he caught himself just in time. She may have committed acts of cruelty and selfishness that betrayed her rank, and she might be deeply annoying at present, but she was still a queen and deserved respect. A similar motive lay behind his hesitance to go along with Virginia and Wolf's plan to kidnap Carmine in the first place—he feared not only harm to their company, but also harm to the queen. If something were to happen to her, they would all be in even more dire straits. And if they treated her more kindly, perhaps she would be amenable to their demands and would see reason.

Therefore, although it rankled him, the Piper forced a smile and adjusted the captive's ropes, relaxing them just a trifle. "There. Better now, Your Majesty?"

She sniffed. "Barely adequate. But I suppose that is the best I can expect."

Colin agreed wholeheartedly, but did not voice his contempt. "You would receive more gentility and respect if you showed them towards us in turn."

One auburn eyebrow arched sardonically. "I am to believe this from a witch, a wolf, and an enchanted piper? A company that has threatened my life, stolen me away from my palace, and placed me in mortal danger? After how you have treated me, I have no reason to believe a word you say."

The Piper regarded her coolly. "How we have treated you? And what of how you have treated us? Imprisoning us, calling us liars and traitors, planning our executions? This is not conducive to obtaining our respect, Your Majesty."

Red Riding Hood snorted, rather unladylike, and turned away. "I rather think your actions have proven you to be the danger and threat I presumed you to be. In any case, Wolf certainly deserves this, even if the rest of you do not."

Sighing, Colin narrowed his eyes reproachfully. "That again. You still insist he is to blame for your sister's death. As if he would do anything to harm his own mother, or would not act if he could have saved her."

Back stiff with outrage, the queen snapped her head back and glared at him. It was all the Piper could do not to cringe before her fury, but he managed to retain his composure, meeting her gaze with equal boldness and determination. After a long minute, Carmine finally shifted in the saddle and looked away. "I would not put anything past a wolf. Besides, it is much more than that. You do not understand."

"No, I do not." The Piper paused thoughtfully, considering. Perhaps if he heard things from her point of view, he might be able to approach matters differently and sway her thinking. And anything was better than dwelling on the strain he had placed on Wolf and Virginia's relationship. "But I would like to. Why don't you explain it to me, Your Majesty? I can be objective and listen with a willing ear. You are not alone...there is another royal here who can understand your plight." That was a stretching of the truth, since he could never condone murder, but he had to make a concession if he were to convince her his offer was genuine.

It seemed he had chosen wisely, because Red Riding Hood was looking at him with a new eye—a touch of skepticism and doubt remained, but relief and gratitude took prevalence now. Relaxing and lowering her eyes, the queen managed a small smile. "That is...most noble of you, your Highness. Perhaps I misjudged you." She rested her hands upon the saddle horn and frowned. "But I do not know where to begin."

Colin spoke softly. "Perhaps you can begin with your sister."

Carmine froze, her eyes still downcast, and for a moment the Piper thought that he had gone too far. Then she looked up, and he was startled by the naked pain and grief in her azure eyes. It was as if a little girl sat there in the saddle, frightened and alone. Then the connection was broken, as her eyes shifted and she looked past him. Following her gaze, he watched Virginia and Wolf as they consulted a map the ostler back at the palace had given them. They were now coming upon another forest, the leaves and branches dripping with moisture as the trees leaned over the trail, and his companions were apparently uncertain of their way.

When the queen seemed satisfied that no one was listening, she answered him in a low, equally soft voice. "Cerise was...she was an angel. So sweet and innocent...I loved her deeply, although it was difficult for me to show her how I felt. Our mother Scarlett insisted upon training and teaching me constantly for my future role. She was quite sensitive to the fact that our lineage was flawed, that true royalty did not flow in our veins—she was only one generation removed from the first Red Riding Hood, who had been chosen by the people. She wanted to ensure that the House of Red would be caparisoned in glory, that the throne would be honored despite our humble origins. And so she focused nearly all her attention on me." Carmine paused thoughtfully. "It is no wonder my sister became so independent and reckless."

She turned again to look into the Piper's eyes. "But we did love her, you must understand that! You simply must!" Desperation saturated her every syllable. "I know how it must seem, that we were too arrogant, wrapped up in our own world of elitism...but we did love her. I loved her. I only wish I could be certain Cerise knew this. After what occurred..." She broke off, biting her lip. "After she..." Again she stopped, as if she could not say the words, as if they would make what happened real in a way nothing else could. Finally, slowly, tears began streaming down her fine-boned cheeks.

The Piper was watching her, simultaneously stunned and moved by the vulnerability and emotion she evinced. This did not seem the same woman who had confronted them with such vindictiveness and hatred in her throne room, the queen who had hissed such venomous words and struggled with them in her boudoir. But then he knew, perhaps better than anyone—certainly better than Virginia or Wolf—how a royal is often indeed two people, the facade he or she must present to the court, to the people...and the real human being inside who must remain hidden from most, perhaps even all.

This would especially be true of a queen whose heritage had often been demeaned and disparaged as not worthy when compared with the grandeur inherent in the House of White or Cinderella's line. She would always be on guard, careful never to compromise her authority by dwelling on her emotions. Never would she wish to endanger the respect of the other Kingdoms that her family had worked so hard to earn.

He knew, however, that emotions were in fact what made a ruler fair and just, that Carmine's humanity was critical if she were to refrain from being a cold, bitter tyrant. Gently he placed a hand on her shoulder, and when she flinched instinctively, he murmured, "When she died, you mean."

The tears began to flow faster, and Red Riding Hood's throat constricted visibly. A soft, muted moan passed through her parted lips, and then she nodded weakly before lifting her bound hands and burying her face in them.

After a few minutes she recovered and looked up. This time there was a defensive accusation in her gaze. "That is why I acted as I did. I did it out of love. I was only trying to protect her! I was only attempting to shield her from the danger posed by those murderous wolves. She was so blind, she could not see it, but I could, and I had to do something to save her, even if she would not. I never dreamed..." Her tears came again, but she ignored them as a smoldering fury began to blaze in her visage.

"How anyone could dare to blame me for Cerise's death I shall never know...Lady Virginia says I have no heart? She is the heartless one...I did everything possible to spare my sister any suffering. I fought to keep those beasts away from her...I fought to make her see reason...and I would do anything, anything to have her alive today!" Carmine shuddered with the force of her emotion. "Do you have any idea what it is like to watch your own sister burn to death before your eyes and know there is no time to prevent it, that there is nothing you can do? Do you know what it is like to witness the rising of the smoke, hear the crackling of the flames, smell the burning of flesh, and know it is that of your own flesh and blood?"

There was absolutely nothing the Piper could say to that. To note that Wolf had suffered the same as she, had witnessed the burning of not only his mother but his father as well, would only enrage her and grind the knife deeper into her breast. So would the observation that, since she refused to change her policy toward wolves, she would not truly do anything to see her sister live again.

He shook his head, and in spite of himself he felt sympathy welling up in his heart. It had been easy for him to dismiss Red Riding Hood as a cruel and selfish woman when he had not met her, when he had heard only Wolf's side of the story. But as with everything, there were always two sides. Hearing hers, he could not deny that the pain and grief the queen of the Second Kingdom had suffered was also great—which made the entire interwoven tale of wolves and Hoods even more tragic.

Carmine, meanwhile, had been galvanized by her growing anger, and as she continued her voice became louder and more vehement. "That is why I shall never forgive Wolf, and why I refuse to show any leniency toward his kind! It is his fault, _their_ fault. If not for him, she would have come back to me. If not for his father, she would never have left. I must punish them, I must protect other young girls from ever meeting the same fate as my sister."

Tightening his grip on his reins, Colin struggled to find the words to respond. On the one hand, he could not dismiss the queen's point of view, and he had to acknowledge that she had a right to be upset after the way she had lost her sister. But on the other hand, he knew her course of action was not only a disservice to the wolves that were nothing like Old Grey and his son, it was a disservice to Carmine herself.

Her mistaken belief that Duncan and Wolf were responsible for Cerise's death would destroy not only Wolf, but her own happiness. As long as she carried out this vendetta, she would never truly release the burden of her sister's death from her heart. Her life would be haunted until her final days, unless she could accept the truth about the past, or unless she could eliminate every wolf that lived—and that was both impossible and unjust.

"Your Majesty." He waited until she had ceased glaring about the mossy roadway and once more looked at him before continuing. "Keep your voice down and listen to me very carefully. I understand how you feel. No one is suggesting you did not love your sister, or that it is wrong for you to wish to protect her. But did you ever pause to consider that she might resent your protection? Cerise was her own person, Queen Riding Hood. She had a mind, and heart, of her own as well. Did you not realize that in making the demands that you did, in forcing her to follow your will, in dictating to her how to live and love, that you only drove her even further into the arms of Wolf's father? From what I have been able to ascertain, your sister was a very independent and rebellious woman. Even acting as you were in what you felt was her best interest, you should have known how she would likely react to your pronouncements.

"I am not saying you caused her death; I am saying you could have been more supportive and understanding. You did not acknowledge her love, you belittled how she was feeling. You did not even take the time to meet Duncan and assess his character. I know your opinion of wolves—but did you not owe it to Cerise to learn what was different about this one, that she could love him?"

Even before he had reached the end of his impassioned plea, the Piper knew Red Riding Hood was furious with him, that she was preparing to lash out yet again at someone whom she deemed presumptuous and impertinent. Yet he could also see a swirl of other emotions in her eyes—guilt, despair, horror, recognition of truth. As she began to assault him, he knew her words came not so much from the possibility he might be right, but from the certainty of it.

"Supportive and understanding? Of her futile and destructive infatuation? Her attraction to the exotic and unbridled? You are correct, Piper, my sister was indeed quite rebellious. And that is how I know what she felt was not true love, but a passing fancy. Her very nature screamed it out to me! She chose a wolf as her lover for the novelty of it, to be willful, nothing more. And even if, by some miracle, her love was genuine, his was not. Wolves are not capable of real love! He was only using her to appease his basest desires at best—and at worst, she was to him a pawn to give him access to my family so he could avenge his grandfather's death on our unsullied bodies!"

By now she was shouting, and Wolf and Virginia were both glaring in her direction, but she seemed not to care. In fact she sat up straighter in the saddle and peered disdainfully down at them. "And no, I shall not be quiet! I wish everyone to know how my family has been wronged! My sister's naiveté was taken advantage of, and when I tried to protect her, it was the selfish possessiveness of that monster that led to her death. Wolves do not love, and the only reason Cerise found Duncan to be different was because he was better at concealing his motives and affecting emotion than most of his kind. I will not rest until all wolves suffer for my loss, until no human is ever again led astray, stripped of their dignity, and betrayed as my sister was."

The Piper reached out to touch her once more, but she pulled away. Before he could try to soothe her and explain how truly wrong she was, Wolf was there, pulling alongside on his horse and snatching the reins of Riding Hood's mare from his hands. "That's quite enough out of you, Red," he snarled. "We don't want to hear more of your lies! So if you know what's good for you, you'll stay silent and out of the way. Otherwise I might have to become angry..." His eyes became the golden hue of wolves, and Carmine complied, shrinking back down in the saddle, although she still quivered in indignation. Wolf then turned to Colin. "And as for you, Piper-boy, stop fraternizing with the enemy."

Colin glared at Wolf's retreating back as he directed the queen's mare to ride between him and Virginia. Although he knew Red Riding Hood was wrong about Wolf, his present attitude and actions were not very admirable, and the Piper in fact did not blame Carmine for distrusting and hating him. It would be a very rough path, showing her the truth about wolves with Wolf as an example.

Sighing, the Piper guided his horse back to follow the others. As he raised his eyes to see where they were now, he beheld yet another patch of forest, this one gloomy and filled with shadow, the trunks crowding close together and encroaching upon the road. He shivered, wrapping his cloak around his lean frame to ward away the chill and dampness, rather thinking that the woods were not much improvement over the heath they had previously been traveling; only the thick canopy that might block away the worst of the rain when it came seemed to bring favor to the change in landscape.

A rustle in the nearby brush attracted the Piper's attention, and he turned that way, frowning. Before he could catch more than a glimpse of motion, the air was split by a sharp whistle. Something long and slim streaked across his mount's withers and shot through the loose, flowing sleeve of his tunic, and he gasped, pulling back on the reins. A cry of dismay and fright came from Virginia, and he snapped his head in time to see her staring at her suddenly empty hands. The map she had been holding was now pinned to the tree beyond her, pierced by the trembling shaft of an arrow.

"Halt!" The deep, booming voice came from the brush where the arrow had first emerged. Colin began rummaging in his satchel for his pipe even as he reluctantly looked back to see the mysterious bowman. He was only a massive silhouette at first, rising from concealment beneath a rocky overhang, but as he approached and became clearer, Colin gulped and let his hands fall free from his satchel.

The man was enormous, almost seven feet tall and heavily muscled, dressed in the leather and rough linen that was the usual garb of a forest peasant, dyed in shades of brown and green. A rich, full, black beard flowed over his deep chest, while his onyx eyes glittered with the threat of violence. Over one cloaked shoulder was slung a quiver, and in his gnarled hands he held an ash bow almost as tall as himself, fitted with another arrow.

"I could hear you coming a mile away," the man growled. "Who are you, and what business brings you into the forest of Benjamin Tell?"

The bowstring pulled taut in the man's hand, and suddenly the iron tip of the arrow was trained unwaveringly on the company.

* * *

Moving slowly, making no sudden movements, the Piper lifted his hands above his head in a gesture of surrender. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Virginia doing the same, while Wolf growled and scratched at his temple viciously, his lip curling in a fearsome snarl with which Colin was quite familiar, and which he would rather not have seen again. Red Riding Hood, in a rare moment of unguardedness, was absolutely pale with fear. As she caught him looking, however, the queen quickly retreated behind her mask of arrogance, sniffed disdainfully, and sat as calm and sedate in the saddle as a person could who was bound hand and foot.

After a tableau of several minutes, Benjamin Tell snapped another question. "Well? Are you going to speak, or would you like to find out how well I can skewer your head when I'm not aiming for an apple?" His arrow tip jerked suggestively, and the arms of his bow creaked.

Finally Virginia found her voice. "We...we're just harmless travelers, good sir. Heading west into the Sixth Kingdom."

That had been an unfortunate blunder. The bowman frowned, his thick bushy eyebrows coming together like mating caterpillars, and then he shook his head and snorted derisively. "No one goes into the Sixth Kingdom, not if they ever want to come out again. You'll have to do better than that."

"Well, we're going there anyway." Virginia swallowed hard, her wide blue eyes focused to a pinpoint on the rigid arrow. "We have a quest of utmost importance that must be completed, and it can only be completed there."

"Now why should I believe you?" Benjamin Tell glared belligerently at her. "You may be a party of thieves, come to rob my family."

Virginia looked helplessly and uncertainly at the rest of them. Clearly she was unwilling to reveal who they really were, but she had no idea what else she could say to assuage the man's suspicions. And Wolf was too busy keeping his knife tucked unobtrusively behind Red Riding Hood, the blade set against the small of her back to prevent her from crying out her identity, to muster a reply of his own—even assuming he had been able to lower his hackles and regard Benjamin with anything other than distrust and feral intent. So it was up to the Piper to do something.

Clearing his throat diffidently, Colin attracted the archer's attention, gulping as those dark angry eyes rested upon him. "You should believe us because of who we are. I am Prince Colin of the Fourth Kingdom, this is the Lady—" He paused for the briefest of seconds to snatch onto a plausible name and hoped this Tell fellow didn't catch on. "—Carmen, and they are Virginia the Fair and the noble Wolf...two of the Four Who Saved the Nine Kingdoms."

As the words passed through his lips he could hear Virginia muffle a curse and hiss under her breath at him about the danger he was putting them in, but he was rather more concerned about the danger he could get them out of. And it seemed to have worked. Benjamin was frowning still, but in puzzlement and wariness now. Slowly he lowered the arrow a few centimeters and considered them again. "You speak truly?"

Sighing in resignation, Virginia nodded. "Yes, he does. We didn't want to say who we were because we're traveling incognito, and we've already run into jealousy and distrust from others when we admitted who we were." She narrowed her eyes at Red Riding Hood suggestively.

Benjamin Tell's expression became even more unthreatening, and his arrow lowered another notch, but he was still unconvinced. "Anyone could say they are the Lady Virginia, the tale is well known across the lands and I know not her countenance. And any worthless wolf could put on airs and pretend to be the great Wolf who saved all the royals." He lifted his bow again to aim his arrow at Wolf, who growled. Wonderful, Colin thought, another wolf-hater. But at least he acknowledged Wolf's heroism. Now if only he believed they were who they said...

Virginia looked crestfallen and let her shoulders slump, and the Piper realized she no longer had the signet ring she had tried to use as proof of identity back at the palace. It must have been left behind somewhere in the queen's chambers. But that didn't matter; he had something just as compelling.

Extending one hand toward their antagonist, Colin displayed the ring bearing his crest with pride and confidence. "I trust you can see that is a royal emblem. And royals never lie. If I tell you this is Virginia and Wolf, then you must believe me."

Nodding slowly, Benjamin relaxed the rest of the way. "Indeed...and you have the bearing of a noble, so you could not have stolen that ring." Lowering his bow to his side, he smiled for the first time, broad and unassuming, showing surprisingly white teeth. "Forgive me, milady, for questioning you so brusquely. You can't be too careful out here in the hinterlands."

As the forester strode to Virginia's horse, which he towered over, and reached up to take and kiss her hand, the Piper heaved a quiet sigh and felt like falling back against his saddlebags. It had worked. Bless his pipe, it had worked! And a good thing, for he had no idea what in the fairying forest he would have done if it hadn't.

Virginia, meanwhile, was blushing, while Wolf managed a quick, tight grin at the now effusive Benjamin. "I understand. No harm was done, so it's all right. But...could you do something with your bow...?" She pointed shakily at the weapon, which he still gripped in one hand and from which his arrow still dangled.

"Oh!" Looking a trifle embarrassed, the big man slung his bow over his shoulder beside the quiver, where he replaced the arrow. "Sometimes I forget I have it in my hand; it's become second nature to us Tells. After what happened to my grandfather William, our family has made it a point to be well-trained archers." He winked and then puffed out his barrel chest. "Now the Tells are the best archers in all the Kingdoms."

"That's nice." Virginia smiled somewhat distractedly, then looked past him along the forest road. "Um...I don't mean to be rude but, now that you know who we are, can we go on?"

Benjamin looked shocked and shook his head firmly. "Why, heavens no! You must come to my house, meet the missus and children, rest, join us for lunch!" He gestured back into the deep woods.

A small cry came from Red Riding Hood, and Colin quickly glanced at her. She was biting her lip and Wolf had his knife tip pressed even closer to her back, most likely drawing blood. He knew at once she had been about to eagerly accept the invitation, and in turn divined why Wolf had prevented her from speaking. So far Benjamin had not shown any sign he recognized the queen, but that could change if he spent enough time around her. In any case, they could not chance the discovery that "Lady Carmen" was not their willing companion, and it would not take long for Benjamin or one of his curious children to notice the bonds. They had to move on, and soon.

Even as the forester was raising an eyebrow curiously at Carmine, and she was returning a look of feigned innocence, Virginia smiled charmingly and replied. "I'm so sorry...Goodman Tell." She seemed to search for the proper title. "But we really must be moving on, our quest is urgent. Once again the Kingdoms are in danger, and we're the only ones who can save them. Otherwise we would gladly pause to visit your home." She used just the right mixture of worry, higher purpose, and regret.

Benjamin looked deeply disappointed, but he nodded in understanding. "Very well...but if you are certain...?"

"Quite certain, quite certain, yes!" Wolf sidled closer to Riding Hood, on the surface appearing to be calming her mount and solicitously looking after her welfare, but in truth shifting his grip on the knife and covering her bound hands with the loose hem of her riding skirt.

Tell sighed and nodded again. "In that case, I must warn you of the path ahead. If the Sixth Kingdom truly is where you must go, then you are in great danger."

"We know, we know," Wolf muttered. "The poisonous thorns at the border."

"Not only that." Benjamin's face seemed to close, his eyes becoming more sunken and dark with genuine concern. "Unless you are careful, and follow my directions exactly, your path will take you through the realm of the May Queen."

The Piper froze, an icy chill creeping down his spine. He knew of the May Queen, and the tales he had heard made him long to ride away in the opposite direction. But Virginia, he noticed, did not seem at all concerned. In fact she looked both confused and amused. "The who?"

"The May Queen," Tell repeated insistently. "She is...a nature spirit, a magical being who has power over springtime. Without her life-giving touch, the Kingdoms would remain in perpetual winter." His voice was both reverent and frightened at the same time, and when he spoke again the fear was prominent, making his words come out husky and whispered. "But what she can give...she can also take away."

Virginia wasn't smiling anymore. Her skin was as white as chalk. "What do you mean?"

Benjamin glanced back over his shoulder in a furtive manner that made the Piper very nervous, as if someone might be listening to his every word. "It is said that she can see right into your souls, see what is truly in your heart. And if you trespass on her hedgerows, she will take something away from you. She will make a part of you hers forever. And sometimes more than just a part."

Colin swallowed hard as he heard the legends of his childhood repeated, and glanced at the others. Virginia had a hand to her heart, as if she could somehow clutch to her by that vain motion whatever the May Queen would take. Wolf seemed a human, or lupine, manifestation of a coiled spring, overflowing with tension and ready to leap into action at any moment. Red Riding Hood's face was an imperious mask, but her eyes were darting about in horror.

Virginia let out a shaky breath and wrapped her fingers around her reins. "Ohhhh...kaaay...then we'll make sure to avoid her hedgerows. You were about to tell us how to do that...?"

Before Benjamin could begin giving them directions, Wolf suddenly shook himself, growled, and jerked on the reins of his horse, swinging it in a wide circle around the bowman and proceeding onward down the trail. Carmine, against her will, was drawn along. Virginia stared after Wolf in consternation. "Wolf! What do you think you're doing?"

Wolf looked back over his shoulder and gritted his teeth. "I don't need any woodsman's helpful hints to find my way around a forest, Virginia. Especially not this one! Remember, I lived here for years. Unless the landmarks have changed a great deal, I don't think I'll have any trouble guiding us to safety." He paused and looked at Benjamin as if only then recalling he was there. "No offense meant, Goodman. But nothing can beat the nose of a wolfie."

Crossing his arms over his broad chest, Tell frowned anew, his brows jutting out over his eyes like a thundercloud. "None taken. Very well, if you insist. But don't say I didn't warn you. Good luck on your journey. You will need it."

With those ominous words, the man turned and disappeared back into the overhanging boughs, brushing aside leaves and undergrowth until he had vanished from view. Only the crunching and swishing sounds of his passage remained, and soon even that was gone.

As soon as Benjamin Tell was out of earshot, Red Riding Hood twisted in her saddle to confront Wolf. "Have you gone mad? Oh, I had forgotten, you are a wolf, wolves are already savagely insane! Only a wolf would dismiss a skilled tracker and guide, in hostile territory, in close proximity to a capricious being that could destroy him, all for the sake of adhering to his vaunted sense of smell!"

Wolf snarled so venomously that Carmine flinched, and then he snapped his jaws at her, making her jerk back yet further. "Let me tell you something, Red. You don't know wolves half as well as you think you do. Not even that. So why don't you close those crimson lips of yours before I gag them again!" Tying the reins of her mare to his saddle horn (much tighter than necessary, Colin thought), he set his face forward again and once more turned toward the west.

But before moving on, he growled another reply, this one much softer. "I don't need him, I don't need anybody to tell me how to find the path, I know where we're going and how to get there. And if we'd stayed much longer with Goodman Tell, he would have noticed those lovely bracelets you're wearing, and huff-puff, we couldn't have that!"

And that was the final word on the matter, as far as Wolf was concerned. Red Riding Hood apparently decided arguing was useless and would only earn her a blow, and Virginia followed along as meek and timid as a mouse, to Colin's chagrin. She was much stronger than this, he knew. But in the face of such anger and stubbornness, she seemed helpless...and even more distant from Wolf. The rift between them had grown wider.

Groaning under his breath, the Piper tremulously trailed along after the others, keeping his eyes on the muddy track beneath his horse's hooves. He only hoped Wolf was right and did indeed know where he was going...or they would all be in much greater peril than simple emotional distress.

* * *

It was hours later. Late afternoon sunlight streamed down through the branches of the forest canopy, casting small pools of wan illumination on the path like accusing fingers, highlighting the castoff pine needles and rotted leaves of past seasons strewn amongst the roots and broken limbs. The rain had come and gone, leaving everything soaked and pungent with the smells of life and death, and everywhere the Piper looked, there was fungus—mushrooms and toadstools in hollows and atop logs, their caps bobbing solemnly in the breeze, bracket fungi sticking out like shelves from the leaning tree trunks, lichen clinging to residual boulders. The scenery was quite dull and monotonous, and he only resorted to studying it because he was tired of running through the same thoughts.

Long ago he had forced himself to stop agonizing over the May Queen and what would happen if they met her. He had turned then to morosely contemplating poor Virginia's plight, as he listened in on her half-hearted attempts to speak to Wolf and make some headway with him—on their direction, on Red Riding Hood, on the quest, on any emotional level at all. But Wolf remained silent and noncommittal, only occasionally grunting or muttering a reply, and at last Virginia had given up. Colin hoped it was only temporarily.

After that he had taken to watching Carmine's narrow back ahead of him on the road as he replayed the words of their poignant conversation through his mind. He was still determined to break through her will, find the way to her heart and help her to see the error of her ways. But he was at a loss how to approach it. He had already concluded that the only way the queen might change her mind about wolves was if she spent enough time around one to see her prejudices were unfounded.

Unfortunately Wolf was not currently in the mood to display the more altruistic and honorable side of his kind, and would not be acting differently any time soon. The only other method the Piper thought might work with Red Riding Hood was to convince her that her sister truly had loved Duncan, that she was not simply a frivolous girl but a woman with desires, emotional depth, and willpower.

The problem there was, he knew nothing about Cerise except what Wolf had told them, which wasn't nearly enough and was in any case only half of who his mother had been. To know more, he must either draw out Carmine or Wolf to talk about Cerise, to give him the information he needed. But the queen was just as reticent as her nephew, and neither was likely to discuss their memories of the woman they had both loved in the presence of each other.

Feeling an onset of melancholy, Colin sighed and returned his gaze to what lay ahead. The view was not encouraging. The trees were now even closer together, and looming farther out over the road, as if they were drawing together for warmth and enclosing the roadway in an attempt to hold the travelers back from their folly. The canopy was so interwoven as to virtually block out all light, and to top it off, a thick, pervasive mist now filled the forest, curling and winding among the trees and creeping across the path on fog-feet to surround the horses' legs, until it seemed as if they floated upon the current of a grayish river.

With every passing minute the mist thickened, concealing more and more of the forest, then latching onto the horses and climbing their tack, streaming between the riders until Colin could only see their vague silhouettes. The horses nickered and snorted nervously, clearly upset by the haze, and the Piper was inclined to agree with them.

Something did not feel right. There was magic in the air.

"Um...Wolf." That was Virginia's voice, sounding even more frightened and uncertain than she must be, now that it was only a thin cry in the mist, divorced from its owner.

"Yes, my creamy darling?" Somehow the familiar term of endearment lacked its usual warmth, replaced now not only by indifference but fear.

"I can't see the path anymore. Can you?" The casualness she tried to put into her voice sounded quite forced to Colin.

Wolf took a long time in answering. "Of course I can."

Next came Carmine's voice, taunting and snide. "Oh, thank goodness. Be still, my quaking heart. For a moment there I thought your all-powerful sense of direction had failed you."

"Shut up, Red."

Colin barely managed to stifle a chuckle. In spite of, or perhaps because of, the growing sense of danger, he found that exchange incredibly funny.

No one said anything else for several eternally long minutes, as the mysterious mist roiled and swelled like a building cloud, and the Piper had to keep a firm control on his imagination to refrain from seeing amorphous shapes and figures within it. At least he hoped they were just his imagination. After a while, Wolf called a halt and leaned down from his horse's back—to get a better scent, he said, but privately Colin thought it was so he could actually see the road.

"This way," he pronounced at last, turning his mount to the right, following a fork in the road no one else could see.

For once no one questioned him or argued with him, perhaps because they, like Colin, were afraid for their lives and knew Wolf was their only hope, uncertain or not, for getting out of this forest.

Then the whispering began.

It came from behind Colin first, at what seemed a great distance, so faint he at first thought his distraught mind had manufactured it. But then it came again from ahead of them, and again from the side, and each time it came it was louder. Soon it swirled all about them, always moving, never staying in one place for more than a second. It spoke no words, at least none that Colin could understand. At times the voice was harsh and grating, at others soft and seductive, at still others wise and introspective.

"Wolf?"

"I hear it."

"What do we do?"

For several heart-stopping minutes there was only the sound of ragged breathing. Then, without warning, there came the sound of bootheels thunking into furred flesh, and the cry, "Ride!"

With a lurch that echoed his heart, the Piper too kicked the sides of his horse. Startled and spooked, it reared and then came down with a jolt, leaping forward at once along the path.

The wind was suddenly bitterly cold against his face as he raced after his companions, almost as if tiny icicles were being driven into his skin. The whispering now became a roar of outrage, and the wind increased, tossing the branches of the trees.

Claw-like twigs and limbs danced and shook, reaching out for him as he galloped unseeing into the murk, and in his dazed fright he could not tell whether it was only the wind or if the trees had actually come to life to snatch him from his saddle. The road became rougher, filled with ruts and holes, and his horse's gait became even more uneven. Somewhere ahead he could hear Virginia shrieking and Red Riding Hood cursing, though whether at Wolf or the spirits in the mist he could not fathom. A boulder loomed from the left and he swerved to avoid it, his horse slipping in the mud, and then a tree angled down from the right.

"Left! No, wait, right!"

Following Wolf's directions blindly, Colin jerked the reins. His horse's breath heaved, and he could hear the foam of its saliva spraying through the air. Something flitted across his line of sight and he screamed in spite of himself. Another unseen apparition tugged at his hat, at his cloak, and he shied away, making his horse dance sideways down the path.

But then Wolf was there, coming out of nowhere, grabbing his reins, and guiding him down the proper path. He heard Virginia call his name, then they were all together again in a tight-knit group, thundering along the new road without any thought for what might lie in their way.

Ahead, the path narrowed to cross a steep, jagged ravine that descended from a rocky cliff to split the forest apart. Spanning the ravine was a weathered wooden bridge, little more than a series of rotted planks supported by massive poles at frequent intervals.

For a moment Wolf hesitated, slowing his horse, but then another eerie wraith danced around him, and he shook his head. "We're trying it anyway!"

"What?" Virginia's shout was whipped away by the wind as once again they were off, hurtling forward at ever greater speeds, most likely the fastest these packhorses had ever gone, and still it did not seem fast enough to Wolf, who urged them on with kicks and snarls. Goaded by the canine sounds that ignited primal instincts within them, the horses tapped some well of strength and dodged gnarled roots that rose to trip them, and then they were galloping onto the bridge. Before they had even gone one third of the way across, Colin could hear the timbers protesting and groaning, and the bridge began to sway and shake beneath them.

"Wolf!" he screamed.

"Forget it, Piper-boy, too late now!"

He was going to get them all killed.

Then there was no time for further thought. Wolf snarled more viciously and savagely then he had ever heard before, and as one his horse and the queen's leaped forward. Virginia's was only a pace behind, and then Colin's. Ominous cracks and shudders ran through the structure beneath them, but all of them ignored the sounds as they galloped onwards.

Colin almost didn't notice when they were on solid ground again, but he soon registered a series of crashes, thuds, and groans, and when he looked back he was in time to see the entire bridge tumble into the ravine. And then a flurry of phantasms were raging after them, drawing ever closer, and he quickly averted his eyes.

Faster, faster they plunged along the road, careening around turns, hurdling gullies, crashing through the now-unavoidable clutches of tree branches attempting to hold them back. Finally, at long last, light began to appear through the trunks, and the trees began to thin. Heartened, the Piper leaned forward over his mount's withers and urged it on with confident words he wished he could believe. Daring to look back, he could see no more of the wispy shapes, but the whispering was still with them, desperate and determined.

"We're almost there!" Wolf howled. "Almost...oh, cripes!"

The last stand of trees fell past them, and suddenly they were all sliding to a stop at the crest of a high hill, overlooking a serene valley. A path led down the hillside but disappeared somewhere within the valley. As Colin scanned the ridgeline, he saw no other roads, and the edge of the forest came directly up to the near drop-off everywhere he could see. But as he panted and shivered and looked around for another avenue of escape, he discovered it was not needed.

The whispers had stopped.

Wiping away tears of frustration and gulping in huge mouthfuls of fresh air, Virginia was unable to speak for several minutes. When she finally could, she glared at Wolf. "What the hell was that?"

Wolf had the grace to look apologetic and mollified. "Those were some of the May Queen's sprites. We have strayed a bit into her realm."

"A bit?" Virginia growled. "How much is 'a bit'?"

"Not too much." Wolf scratched self-consciously at his temple and looked away. "I...may have made a mistake once or twice in our path. But I know where we are now."

Virginia snorted. "Well that's very comforting now!"

Colin would have voiced his agreement, except he was still winded from his run and trembling in terror. He kept glancing back at the forest, expecting to see another misty shadow. His eyes were probably as wide and displaying their whites as his horse's, he surmised.

After they had all had a chance to recover, Wolf finally took stock of their surroundings. As soon as he saw the road and the valley below, he stiffened, but quickly relaxed. No one else noticed, the Piper believed. "Down to the valley we go."

"Wait a minute!" Virginia snapped. "You idiot! How dare you do something so stupid, so harebrained, so reckless, and then think you can just brush it off like that? _Hello,_ I'm pregnant with your cub, remember? I could've had a miscarriage with all that jostling and galloping!"

As Wolf turned back, the Piper was pleased to see intense contrition and pain on his face. Maybe he was finally becoming his old self again. "Oh, Virginia, I'm so sorry!" Hurriedly he dismounted and came to her side, reaching up to take her hands in his, but she stared at him coldly and pulled away. Tears appeared in his eyes and he gnashed his teeth. "I didn't mean it, lambchop, I truly didn't! I didn't think—"

"Obviously." Virginia crossed her arms.

"It's just, I had to save you from what was chasing us..."

"By putting me and our child in even more danger? Yeah, that was a smooth move, Wolf."

He scratched at his temple and clutched his hair with both hands, moaning softly. "No no _no,_ Virginia, you don't understand! You weren't in any danger, wolf cubs are very hardy little chaps, it takes a lot to make a mother lose one. She can hunt until the sixth month, and even after that if her pack is in danger she can run like the wind to escape and protect the lives of her little ones. There may have been a risk, but it was a small one. Do you really think I would do anything to put the life of our cub in jeopardy, love?" Wolf whimpered.

"I don't know. You haven't done much to show you care about me lately," Virginia said quietly. "And it would have been nice if you'd told me about all the quirks of being mother to a wolf cub long ago, so I'd have known what to expect."

Wolf's face crumpled, and he whined so pitifully that even Colin began to feel sorry for him. Green eyes brimming over with tears, he peered up at Virginia. "I never thought it would come up, I thought you would be safe at home in my arms the whole time you were with cub. Please, Virginia...please don't hate me! You can't really mean what you said, you can't think I'd hurt you or the cub, or let you be hurt, you just can't!"

At last Virginia relented, her expression softening as she reached out to take Wolf's hand. "No. I don't. I'm sorry, I didn't mean that, I was just mad...just, be more careful next time, Wolf." This time she let him reach up and lift her down from the saddle, where he held her in his arms and caressed her stomach protectively.

Kissing her cheek, he nodded and smiled through his tears. "No worries, Virginia, I'll be a very careful wolfie, I'll be so careful you'll think you're riding on the softest, plumpest pillow in all the Kingdoms!"

Virginia laughed and cradled his chin in her hand as she rested her forehead against his. Colin breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps this was a sign that the wall between them would be coming down soon.

But of course at that moment Red Riding Hood, still seated on her mare, had to make a scathing remark. "How touching. Is there trouble in the House of Wolves? How dreadful!"

Slowly, very slowly, Wolf turned around to face her, and she blanched. Colin, off to the side, could see his expression in profile and even he was stunned. The emotions surging and swirling in Wolf's eyes and twitching in his cheeks were so powerful, out-of-control, ravaging his features. Tears still trickled down, but beyond his sorrow, his worry, his distress, even his fury, there was something else—an undeniable sense of loss, of torment, as if somehow those few words from his aunt had hurt him more than anything else she or anyone else in his life had done. Carmine's eyes widened as she took this all in, as if in turn she were realizing for the first time he had feelings that could be hurt.

"Shut up, Red." The words came out in a growl, but lacked the force and anger they had before, instead being choked out thickly, regretfully. "If you know what's good for you, just...shut up."

For the first time since he'd met her, Carmine seemed speechless. After several long minutes, her gaze faltered and she looked away.

When he felt enough time had passed, Colin tentatively asked, "Shouldn't we be moving on? If the May Queen is nearby..."

Wolf nodded morosely, sniffing and wiping his nose. "Yes. We must move quickly before we attract her attention."

Suiting actions to words, he took the reins of his horse and Virginia's and led the way down the road off the windswept hill, Carmine's mare in turn following docilely. Sighing, Colin once more brought up the rear, wishing he had the words that would compel people as easily as the notes of his pipe did.

By the time they reached the foot of the hill and entered the valley, it was almost twilight. However, there was still enough light to see their surroundings, and what he saw did not inspire much hope in the Piper. The valley was about an acre in size, filled with soft, gentle blades of verdant grass, but the susurration begun by the wind was disturbingly reminiscent of the whispering in the forest.

Worse, the entire perimeter of the valley was lined with hawthorn bushes, adorned with pristine white blossoms, which he knew were imbued with the power of the May Queen. Each hawthorn bush's branches were intertwined with its two neighbors, forming an impenetrable wall of vegetation around the valley, sealing them in. And now, as he gazed around, he saw the mist that had filled the forest permeated the valley too, and was growing thicker.

"Wolf...?" Virginia bit her lip and pointed. Colin followed her finger and saw that, just within the ring of hawthorn bushes, there was another concentric circle, this one of mushrooms sparkling with dew. A fairy-ring...another source of power.

"I see it." Wolf's reply was curt as he peered around guardedly. "She is close...very near..."

Virginia giggled weakly and began half-singing, half-speaking to herself, her voice rather shaky and disjointed. "If there's a bustle in your hedgerow, don't be alarmed now, it's just a spring clean for the May Queen..."

There was a stirring in the air, and then a disembodied voice echoed around them—deep, booming, bell-like, resembling the waves crashing upon a seashore. "Did someone summon me?"

Mesmerized, the four of them watched raptly as the mist within the vale billowed and churned like a vast cauldron of witch's brew, never rising higher than their horses' barrels but causing the animals to prance and whicker in fear anyway. Then a pillar of mist rose directly in front of them all, beginning to shape itself to a human form. A wind rose, gentle but constant, and suddenly a flurry of leaves, petals, branches, and twigs sailed through the air, whirling around the misty figure. In and out, up and down, the wind wove its cargo, gradually building a framework of hazel, a head of rowan, a body of hawthorn boughs and blossoms—he could recognize each tree's offering by its fragrance, the mixture of sweetness, bitterness, and headiness overpowering.

In short order, a massive construct hovered before them, half again as high as a man, shaped into the gentle curves of a woman's body, its numerous branches and leaves held together by the swirling mist that still darted about and within the mysterious, silent image. Dark hazelnut eyes seemed to regard them with a wisdom and knowledge that stabbed deep into Colin's very marrow. He could sense the power inherent in her, more power than anything or anyone he had ever encountered. Thunder and storms and the deluge of floods were there, roots that plunged deep into the core of magic. She was outside time, boundless, ageless, beyond any line drawn between good and evil. She simply was.

"I am the May Queen," she said unnecessarily. She had no mouth, nor did she need one; the sound simply emanated from her being and quivered in the air like a mountain stream. "You have trespassed on my domains, and thus are bound by my laws."

"No, wait, please!" Virginia pleaded, hands outstretched imploringly. Colin wished he could explain to her it was too late, that there was nothing she could say or do to change their fate, but he was too paralyzed with fear to intervene. "We're on a quest, of grave importance—"

"Your quest, no matter how crucial, is superseded by my laws." A strange sense of pity seemed to tremble in the nature spirit's voice, and the sweet scent of hawthorn grew even stronger. "All that remains is to carry them out." A slender twig-hand fashioned of hawthorn extended to point at the group.

"Each of you has lost an integral part of yourselves, and to regain it you must in turn give up something to me...something ingrained and indelible, something that makes you who you are. And you shall give it up willingly." She paused, then indicated Colin. "Except for you. You are free of my bequest...what you require shall not be given to you by me, but by another."

The Piper did not know whether to feel offended or relieved at this declaration, but before he could hazard a reply, Red Riding Hood interrupted. "No! No, I forbid it!" She set her mouth in a prim line and glared at the May Queen with all the power of her rank, somehow managing to overcome her fear. "I am the ruler of the Second Kingdom, and I am not beholden to your laws. Begone, foul spirit!"

Colin closed his eyes and waited in anticipation of the worst, but nothing happened. There was no explosion of fury, no blast of lightning or gale of wind. Venturing to open his eyes, he saw the May Queen had not moved, although her branch-hand now pointed at Carmine. When she spoke, it was in a sad, almost sympathetic tone. "No...I am afraid you can forbid nothing. And contrary to your belief, you are just as enmeshed within my magic as these others. In fact...it is you who is in need of it most of all."

As Red Riding Hood stared at the spirit, flabbergasted, Virginia made one last attempt for understanding. "Your Majesty, please, don't do this! Let us go!"

A dark chuckle made the swirls of mist shiver. "Oh, you shall be freed...after you have freed yourselves. After you have found your way back to yourselves, and to each other. After you have given me what I demand as payment. All of which shall begin...now."

The ground began to rumble and quake as the last word echoed in their minds, and the sweat-soaked horses began whinnying and pawing the earth restlessly. The shaking grew more pronounced, and then with a violent upheaval the field split open beneath their feet, cracking and roiling like waves on the sea.

As one all of the horses began rearing and neighing and jerking at their bits, and it was all Colin could do to stay on the back of his. Red Riding Hood, without her hands or feet free, could not hold on at all and promptly tumbled out of her saddle, just missing being kicked by flailing hooves. Luckily for her, her horse did not linger to pummel her, tearing free of Wolf's grip instead and galloping back the way they had come, dragging along Wolf's horse, to which its reins were still tied.

The Piper went next, flying backwards as his horse bucked and shied away from the jutting angles of crumbling earth. Shaking his head to clear it of the ringing, he looked up in time to see Virginia's horse following the others, leaving behind only a single rucksack as they were abruptly abandoned by their mounts. Wolf yelled futilely after them, but the horses were already scaling the hill, and in minutes they had disappeared back into the forest. Wolf flexed his hands and whimpered helplessly.

"Quit standing there, you fool!" Red Riding Hood screamed from the ground. "Get us out of here!"

Snarling, Wolf grabbed Virginia and lifted her in his arms, one hand cradling her stomach. "Get Red!" he shouted at Colin.

Stumbling to his feet as the ground shook with renewed tremors, the Piper scooped up the fallen queen and raced after Wolf as he ran fleetly toward the valley rim. But it was too late, he saw, for even as they neared the opening between the hawthorns, enormous brambles sprang up like hands outthrust from a grave, their thorns deadly and gleaming. Not even breaking his stride, Wolf turned and sprinted along the hawthorns, searching for another exit.

Another mass of plant growth wrenched itself free of the earth, growing with astonishing speed, stems and leaves bursting forth and swelling to head height, then higher. In moments it was intertwining to form a blocky, box-like expanse of evergreen hedge—yew to be precise. In either direction the hedge grew, forming a wall to block their path that only lengthened the longer they watched. Again Wolf wheeled to the side, dashing along the hedgerow.

But it was useless, Colin saw, for between the magically-enhanced plant growth and the instability of the ground, none of them could manage to get ahead of the hedge. And then others began sprouting at right angles, partitioning off the valley, and abruptly their flight became a struggle to keep from being surrounded.

When a particularly violent tremor ran through the ground, the Piper tripped and went sprawling in the dirt. Red Riding Hood rolled several yards away, shrieking in anger, before coming to a stop against a rock, where she lay kicking and squirming. But before he could rise, or call out to Wolf to stop, a hedge grew to tower over him and cut off all access to the queen.

"Your Majesty!" he yelled, clutching at the prickly leaves and crimson berries of the yew. He heard a scream, but it was soon drowned out by the rumbling of the ground.

Realizing he was wasting valuable time, Colin rose and raced along the new hedge, searching for a turning or an opening that would grant him access to Carmine once more, but there were none. The only turns he found seemed bent on keeping him away from his charge. Before he knew it, he was near the edge of the valley, cornered in a twisting labyrinth of hedges, and although he could hear distant screams and snarls, he could not see Virginia or Wolf either, let alone find them. He was entirely alone.

Suddenly an opening materialized ahead of him—perhaps literally, for he could swear there had been nothing but impenetrable vegetation there a moment before he had glanced away. Putting on a burst of speed he hadn't known he possessed, the Piper hurdled forward and streaked through the exit. Even as he fell to the ground and fetched up against one of the hawthorn bushes, he heard a rustling behind him and knew the exit had closed for good. Wheezing, he righted himself and began following the hedges yet again, this time trying to find an end to it, a way to reenter the valley and find his companions.

His search was in vain. He reached one corner of the hedgerow, only to find another row extending what seemed endlessly into the distance. Groaning, he fought against the stitch developing in his side and ran onward, heading for the next corner, if one existed. After fifteen minutes he found it, but when he gazed in dismay at the equally daunting extent of hedge that awaited him, he slowed to a stop, swore, and collapsed against the nearest yew, pounding his fists against its unyielding branches.

This was more than mere hardiness, it was the May Queen's magic. He would never be able to penetrate the hedges. And it was useless to continue searching for any way inside, for he knew instinctively that there were none. Now he knew what the May Queen had meant. In exempting him from her laws, she had separated him from his companions, literally.

Bowing his head in defeat, the Piper grasped at the hedge until he felt berries crushing between his fingers, staining his palms with juice that resembled blood. Not an auspicious omen. He also knew now the true magnitude of the spell. The yews had grown to form a maze, one Virginia and Wolf and Red Riding Hood would have to navigate without him, without each other, in order to "find their way back".

Shivering as much from this realization as from the cold tendrils of mist that surrounded him in a maelstrom of motion, he slowly sank down into the sea of fog and buried his face in his hands. They were well and truly trapped.

* * *

(Just a quick note: to anyone wondering, yes the look of the May Queen was inspired by the Greenwitch from Susan Cooper's _The Dark Is Rising Sequence_. The bit with the hedge maze was written before I ever read the fourth Harry Potter book or saw the film, but I can see why some might think this is also a homage. R/R!)


	11. Ten: The Mists of Truth

**Ten**: The Mists of Truth

Wolf waited until the rumbling of the ground had ceased before he rose from his spread-legged crouch and sniffed the air frantically. Now that the hedges had at last stopped growing, he could set out to find his beloved Virginia. During the headlong flight across the valley, he too had become separated from his companion, but far more forcibly: after losing his hold on Virginia, he had run back to her side and grabbed her hand, dragging her after him, but a hedge had sprung up directly under their linked hands, wrenching them apart.

It had felt like a physical manifestation of the wall that had formed between them ever since their departure from Incarnadine, and it made him want to howl in despair. It was his own fault, too. If he had not been so focused on revenge, on hate, he would have been far more attentive to Virginia and devoted to her welfare. And if he had not been ruled by his pride and his refusal to appear weak before Red Riding Hood, he would have better avoided the May Queen and her sprites, and then both the dangerous ride through the forest and their present predicament would never have occurred.

How could he be so blind, so stupid? Now he might lose his one true love! He whimpered pitifully. And not only that, but he had a sense of unease and disquiet churning in his stomach, as if he were even more culpable than he knew. Something felt very wrong about his actions, as if he had betrayed something precious...

Forcing himself to focus on the problem at hand, he scratched at his temple and listened. Somewhere nearby he could hear the shrieks and cries of his aunt, but he ignored them.

Elsewhere, far distant, he heard Virginia call his name.

"Coming!" Reminded painfully of their glorious romp of hide-and-seek in the woods near Wendell's castle, he sniffed the air again, finally catching hints of his mate's scent. Then he dashed off in pursuit.

The problem was, the maze was not designed for easy access to any given point. For all he knew, there might not even be any egress between the various paths to the center. Still, he was not about to give up. At each intersection of hedges he paused, reaching out with all his senses to determine his course. He was forced to rely on sound and smell alone, for the passages all looked the same, and the swirling mist reduced visibility to near zero only a few feet ahead of and behind him. The dark shadows and leaves of the towering yews were gloomy, depressive, even ominous, and he could swear they were pressing closer, narrowing the path imperceptibly.

Several times he went the wrong way, reaching a dead end, and had to double back, and other times he lost Virginia's scent and had to backtrack again to regain it. Each time he did, he found some aspect of his route had changed—the path angled the opposite direction as before, or had been blocked off altogether by a shifted hedge, and he lost precious minutes to seeking out a new avenue. He had a feeling he was being herded in a specific direction, and would not be able to find Virginia unless he followed a certain path through the maze, a thought that enraged him. But he had no choice except compliance, the May Queen's faerie magic was too strong to be circumvented.

Dashing down one zigzagging path, Wolf sprinted until he reached a T-intersection and went left, then came almost immediately to a Y-intersection and went right. In similar fashion he wound a circuitous course around the maze until finally, something unexpected happened. He came to another juncture—and this time Virginia's scent was equally strong both ways. He had no idea which route was the correct one.

Growling in frustration, he threw back his head and howled mournfully. He would never find his mate now, never! _Fine mess, fine mess! But what do you expect, you've already failed her so many times on this quest, letting her get captured by Red, not rescuing her from her cell, not listening to Benjamin Tell, getting her trapped by the May Queen, putting her and the cub in danger_—_no she forgave me for that! _

_Yes but she's still mad at you, and now if you get out of this she'll hate you and why shouldn't she it's all because you insisted on bringing Red along that this happened, you and that lust for vengeance that's consumed you, that's why she's afraid of you now too and doesn't trust you anymore! No, she loves me, she trusts me, she has since the swamp, since I saved her from the Huntsman, and anyway I've changed! _

_No you haven't, you're the same vicious wolf as always, and she knows it, she knows you don't really want to help her anyway, that you still think Wendell was better as a dog, you just wanted to be with her all alone so you could be her hero and fool yourself into thinking you're anything but the nasty animal you are nasty animal nasty animal nasty_—

"You're not a nasty animal, Wolf, you're not anything of the sort," came a deep, melodious voice from behind him. A very familiar voice. "Huff-puff, I thought I raised you better than that."

The berating mental dialogue he had lapsed into out of habit faded away, and Wolf slowly turned around, unable to believe what he was hearing. But when he saw who stood watching him in the mist, his heart nearly stopped as well. It was impossible, but there was no mistaking that squarish chin jutting out in defiance...that full, sensuous mouth turned down in a disapproving frown he knew so well from when he had been disciplined as a cub...those features, so like his own...that long brown hair tied back in a ponytail resting on one broad shoulder...those flashing green eyes, filled with wisdom, sympathy, regret.

Even the clothes were familiar, the fine burgundy suit and cream silk shirt with ruffled collar that he had worn on festival days at the village dances. And emerging from the back of his coat was a black and gray tail, swishing back and forth as it had when he was irritated.

It was his father, Duncan.

"F-father?" He could barely speak the word. "Is it really you?"

A touch of mischief gleamed in Duncan's eyes. "Do you know any other wolves as dashing and handsome?"

Wolf could barely manage to make his tongue work. "B-but...you're dead!" he blurted at last. How intelligent.

His father nodded slowly, somberly. "Of course I am. But thanks to the May Queen, I can visit you. And you have need of my help, son."

Hope flared in Wolf's breast, and he rushed at once to Duncan's side, reaching out instinctively to take his hands. "Oh boy, do I ever! Can you tell me the way, guide me through this maze? I have to find..." He trailed off as he gazed down in astonishment at the warm, firm hands in his grip, olive-toned and covered with dark, curling hair. He could touch him!

Even as he was still coming to terms with this incredible development, his father was answering his question with a regretful sigh. "No, Wolf, I cannot. Only you hold the key to solving the maze, here in your heart." He tapped Wolf's chest. "But what I can do is help you to understand that key, and use it."

Puzzled, Wolf brushed the confusing response aside. His father was here, truly here! Nothing else mattered at this moment in time. Without hesitation he enfolded Duncan in the tightest and longest hug he had ever given anyone, clutching him close as if he could keep him from ever leaving again. Tears ran down his cheeks and soaked into the shoulder of the velvet suit jacket.

Somehow all the pain and anguish and danger of the quest, of his whole life, seemed to be expunged, wiped clean by this single shining instant, as if none of it mattered. His father was here, in his arms, and even if he knew, deep down inside, that Duncan did not live and never would again, still...simply being able to touch him once more, to hold him close, opened up parts of Wolf's heart he had thought forever sealed. The only other time he could remember being this happy was when Virginia had first told him she loved him.

Duncan too seemed extremely glad at this reunion, and just as reluctant to break the embrace. Even after he stepped back, his father kept his hands on Wolf's shoulders, squeezing and patting them as if he too needed reassurance. "My son...how tall and strong you've grown. You've become everything I always knew you would be. I'm so proud of you!"

Wolf blinked away his tears and whined in sheer joy. He had never thought he'd hear those words. "Thank you, Father. I know I let you down for so many years...but I finally found my way, I found Virginia, and she helped me become myself again...to regain my honor. And I saved the Kingdoms, did you know that?" He grinned cubbishly, knowing how eager and silly he must sound but not caring.

A nod and a broad grin was his reply. "I most certainly do. I always knew you would one day prove wolves were not savage beasts." Duncan paused, and then he frowned, and the shadows of the hedges and the gathering darkness of night seemed to collect and drape over his features. "But...and I hate to say this, yet I must be honest, and it is for your sake that I come to you now...there is one way in which you have not made me proud, in which you have shunned my teachings and wounded me deeply." His words were soft, but they stabbed an icy chill in Wolf's heart.

Whimpering, Wolf shook his head in denial, unable to accept it. He had been so happy, and now this threatened to bring it all crumbling down into the depths again. What could he have done wrong? Had he somehow earned the displeasure and contempt of his father, as he had always feared he would? Again that sense of betrayal niggled at the back of his mind. Licking his dry lips, he hastened to assure Duncan that all would be well.

"What? No no, Father, I would never do anything to hurt you, never ever! And if I did I would make it up to you immediately. Just tell me what it is, and I will remedy it, you have my wolf word!" He scratched at his temple to emphasize the point. Surely his father would be proud again now, he was being a true wolf and taking responsibility. He just could not lose his approval, not now.

Duncan stared at him for a long time, his expression inscrutable. Finally, just as Wolf's agitation reached the breaking point, he replied, his tone deceptively simple. "What you have done, Wolf, is seek revenge against your aunt."

Stunned, Wolf fell back, his mouth working silently as his heart pounded in his chest. That elusive feeling of having denied the truth to himself flared with white-hot clarity in his mind. This was what he had been avoiding, what he could not face—that ever since his decision to take Red hostage, he had been turning his back on his father.

Horrified, he tried futilely to explain. "Father...I...no...you don't understand..." The words to excuse himself would not come, for there was no excuse. His desire for revenge, his hatred, his sheer terrorism, they all went counter to everything he had been taught as a cub! How could he have gone so far astray?

Sighing, Duncan reached out and took his shaking hands. "Son...I do understand your anger at her, your need to avenge our deaths. I understand it well, I was witness to the same impulses and rages in my father. I do not blame you for wishing harm to the one who destroyed your life. But I cannot condone it. Did you hear nothing of what I instilled in you? Did you forget how I worked all my life to end the feud? Did you forget what I told you...or did you reject it? Cripes, Wolf, don't you see what you've become? By clinging to your hatred, your fury, you are acting no better than your grandfather.

"Revenge is a hollow thing...once it is achieved, what do you do with the rest of your life? Continue down this path, and you will meet the same fate as every generation of our family has met. Because you are proving true Carmine's prejudices...you are giving her just cause to pass yet further laws against our kind. You are fulfilling every wolf stereotype...you have given in to the darkness." The resignation and disappointment welling up in his father's voice were more searing and gut-wrenching than any anger could ever be.

Wolf could not meet Duncan's eyes. The only word he could think of to describe his heart was crushed. All of his cubhood he had looked up to his father, wanting only to please him and make him proud. To know he had failed to do so now, right after being told he had succeeded, and that it was not just any failure but a betrayal of the core beliefs his father held—it felt like he had been eviscerated in a wolven fight for dominance. "Father..." he whined. "I'm sorry...I'm so so sorry..." He swayed on his feet, as if the ground were rolling again.

"That is good, son." Duncan smiled, if a trifle grimly, and nodded. "Then there is still hope. There is still a chance you won't doom your fellow wolves...that you can still make my dream of peace with the House of Red come true."

Nausea swept over Wolf as he stepped back a pace from his father, then another. His thoughts were racing a mile a minute, darting about as if hunting for prey, which in a sense they were. For he was desperate to find some way to avoid what he knew was coming, the request Duncan would make, against which every fiber within him cried out. The request he was compelled to fulfill, since he had given his wolf word. He longed for some way to escape, but there was none, he was still trapped within the maze, and in any case he could not move. It was as if his feet were rooted to the spot.

Finally he replied, hoarse and barely audible. "And h-how can I do that?"

Duncan looked as if he were waiting for this question, and he certainly pounced upon it. "By giving up on your revenge against Carmine. Let it go, Wolf. Just let it go."

Wolf stared at him in disbelief, even though he had known that would be the price. He felt as if he were the one burning upon a pyre—an image that reminded him disconcertingly of his conviction in the murder of Sally Peep. He couldn't even speak, he could only swallow and gulp soundlessly.

"I know that seems impossible to you, son, but believe me, it can be done. And it must be, for your sake, and Red's, and for the Nine Kingdoms. And simply for your own peace of mind." Duncan held up his hands imploringly. "This has been dragging you down for years, burning into your heart, and all it has done is brought more pain and suffering. It is what I told my father and brothers, the violence and hatred must end, and end now. Only then can there be true acceptance and hope. Please, Wolf...do it for Virginia, and for me." The sincerity and appeal in his voice were so heartfelt and real Wolf could not deny or avoid them.

He took a step forward again, reaching out mutely to his father—and then he fell to his knees and began to weep. "Father...no..."

Duncan sighed and shook his head. "Yes. You must. Or you will never escape this maze. If you do not purge this need for revenge you will be blind to the path out...to any path set before you. A wolf who focuses on one scent, to the exclusion of all others, will be caught unawares by the bow of the hunter, and then his family will starve. Then you will have failed your mate and the Kingdoms...you will have failed me."

Wolf could barely see him for the tears welling up unbidden, and it was as if the blindness his father described had become a reality. He would do nothing to jeopardize Virginia's safety, and his father's trust meant the world to him. The two most resonant chords in his heart had just been struck. Still, he vacillated. "But how...how can I do it? I hate her so much...after what she did to you...to me...to Mother..."

To his surprise his father sank to his knees before him and took his hands again, their twin emerald gazes meeting and eclipsing. Wolf shuddered, as he felt his soul laid bare, all the secrets he wished kept hidden away, all the things he had said and done that he regretted, all the things that separated him from his father. Somehow he felt it had been spilled out in a cluttered disarray between them, with the light of the moon to illuminate and reveal all that lay therein, picking out the glaring faults and shadowy sins.

"Son...she did us evil. This cannot be denied. But like it or not, she is your family, and a wolf never turns his back on his family. You don't have to forgive her, not yet. Maybe not ever." Duncan lifted Wolf's hands to his heart, and he did not resist, entranced by the words he was hearing.

"You don't even have to love her. But you do have to abandon your revenge. She is the last hope wolves have for being spared further persecution. You have to get through to her, break down the walls of her heart...and you can't do that if you're using scare tactics, threats, and violent retribution. You have to see things from her side, and then use it to enable her to see yours."

The words were compelling, and Wolf's resolve began to crack. "I...I..." He shook his head to clear it of the confusion. It didn't work, it clung like cobwebs. "Are you sure this is the only way?"

Duncan nodded without hesitation. "I know I am asking a great deal of you, but no quest is ever fulfilled without sacrifice. You must do what you think is right, of course. It is your choice, as it has always been. But this is the proper choice. Have I ever led you wrong? You don't defeat evil with more evil. Seek justice, not revenge."

Balling his fists so tightly they shook, Wolf closed his eyes and whimpered softly. He could see their faces behind his eyelids—Red's and Virginia's, one filled with hatred and contempt, the other with love and gentleness. He could not have both. He could not have his revenge on Red, and keep his closeness to Virginia, his ability to protect her. His beleaguered mind had to choose.

It was the hardest thing he had ever done in his life, next to watching his parents burn. It was harder than all those years in prison, harder than fighting the will of the Evil Queen for a month, harder than losing Virginia. Because unlike those experiences, this involved something that had been his companion and stay for over half his life. And yet at the same time, when he whittled down through all the self-delusion and excuses, it was shockingly easy.

Because the fact of the matter was, if it were necessary to rescue Virginia, he would do it. If it were necessary as part of the honor and pride of being a wolf, as well as cleansing the wolven reputation, he would do it. And most of all, if it were necessary to fulfill his father's wishes, to prove he followed Duncan's teachings and always would, then he would do it.

Even so, he could barely utter the words, and when he did it was in a faded, broken whisper. "All right...all right. I'll do it. I'll give up my revenge."

There came a sudden wrenching in his chest, and he gasped in agony as something was displaced, ripping away from his heart. His eyes popped open and he looked down in time to see a diaphanous ball of mist, seeming no different from any patch hovering among the yew leaves, drift clear of his chest, rotating endlessly. As he watched, dumbfounded and fascinated, it rose away from him, rising to settle in the hand of Duncan, who now stood before him again. There it vanished, dissipating harmlessly.

"Thank you, Wolf," his father said softly, lovingly. "You won't regret this. In fact you'll thank me when your quest is over, if not before."

Wolf blinked, squinting, as Duncan's form became wispy, indistinct. And suddenly he realized he was breaking apart, rejoining the mystical fog around them. "No! No! Father, don't go, you can't leave me now!" He stumbled to his feet, ignoring the sudden wave of dizziness even as he wondered how it could exist, for he had not been kneeling very long.

But his father only smiled sadly, his features blurring. "I'm sorry, son...my time is up. Do what your heart tells you to do with your new freedom. Never forget what I've told you. Never forget the example you must set." With those final words he faded completely away, and beyond where he had stood, Wolf was startled to see there was now only one passage through the hedges. The way to Virginia was clear.

For what seemed a long time he wept, then whimpered, then howled. When he finally regained his composure and thought to check the pain that had been throbbing in his chest, he was stunned to find it had not only passed, it had been replaced by relief, a buoyancy, a happiness he had not felt in what seemed ages. He felt like running, leaping for joy.

And that was what he did, as he recovered his balance and began a fast walk, then a leaping sprint into the mist of the hedgerows. Faster he went, ever in pursuit of Virginia.

For he knew, with the certainty of dreams, that all of his despair and horror had been worth it, they had given him release. A long road lay ahead with Carmine and the rest of the quest, but he had hope now. His chains had been loosed.

He was free. Free.

* * *

Holding onto one of the prickly hedges until the quaking had stopped, Virginia tried to slow her breathing to a reasonable level, keeping from hyperventilating by focusing on the danger to her baby. After five minutes she succeeded and pushed away from the hedge, looking around at where she had ended up.

She groaned aloud. She had been leaning on a solitary hedge, like a pillar, standing in the open center of a round intersection of hedgerows, with passages angling off in four directions. Each looked exactly the same as the others, with no indication of which route she should take. She was hopelessly lost.

Helplessly she turned around in a circle, wheeling from one hedgerow to another, but the layers of cloaking mist made it impossible to see far enough to gauge which path might be promising. She needed Wolf and his keen senses. Nevermind that it was his fault they had ended up here; she needed her Wolf.

Taking a deep breath, she called out toward the center of the valley. "Wolf!"

After what seemed like a long time, she heard his faint voice answer. "Coming!" It sounded as if he were on the opposite side of the maze. Wonderful.

Rubbing her forehead anxiously, Virginia took stock again. There had to be a way through this maze, no labyrinth was unsolvable and the May Queen had said she and Wolf would find their way back to each other. That is, if she was to be believed. Gritting her teeth, Virginia growled under her breath. No, she was not giving up. Snow White believed in her; it was time she believed in herself.

Focusing on the direction Wolf's voice had come from, she picked what she thought was the passage that would take her where she wanted to go and started down it, knowing she could not second-guess herself if she wanted to make any progress.

The light of the moon guided her steps, illuminating stray rocks, gleaming on each dewdrop until it resembled a tiny pearl, and making the fog scintillate in a silvery, opalescent blanket that roiled a few inches above the ground, like a pot preparing to boil over. It was quite unnerving and brought to mind the unpleasant image of being the newest ingredient in a giant's stew. In the distance, almost concealed by the mist, another sprite darted and flitted about. She shivered and rubbed her hands briskly over her arms.

Looking up past the tops of the yews, she saw that the moon's phase was currently somewhere between the half moon and the crescent. In a few days' time it would be the new moon, and there would only be another two weeks until Wolf would be under the call of the full bone-white orb. Luckily they had not much farther to go before they reached the Sixth Kingdom and the dragon, and they could therefore avoid the complications of Wolf's cycle while in dangerous territory, and with Red Riding Hood too temptingly close.

Assuming they escaped the maze in time.

For the next half hour Virginia threaded her way down one passage and up another, crisscrossing the valley several times. At first she made mistakes and found herself in dead ends, but then her sharp mind began to pick up on the pattern—every intersection she had to bear to the right—and soon she was striding along confidently. She was certain now that if she just kept her wits about her and didn't panic, she would meet Wolf in the middle of the maze.

But then, as she turned a corner, she found herself in another rondure, this one occupied by a flat expanse of moss-covered granite in the exact center, rather like the pedestal of a statue. Resting one hand on its cold surface, she noticed grooves worn into the stone, weathered runes whose meaning she could not fathom but which somehow gave her a faint sense of foreboding, of portentous significance. As she circled the rock, she became more and more disturbed...and then with a shock she realized the boulder was glowing in the moonlight, faintly pulsating. In fact it was coming from the runes.

Glancing warily around the rondure, she saw there were only two other exits—but both were on the same side, leading to the right. Which was she to choose? As she pondered, still somewhat distracted by the lustrous stone and its weird engravings, a stray, unrelated thought came to her. Although it seemed ridiculous, she was reminded once again of Led Zeppelin, this time of the lines that immediately followed those she had quoted before: _Yes, there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run/ there's still time to change the road you're on._ And the May Queen had said they must find themselves. Could these thoughts be connected?

"Could it be," she mused aloud, "that she wants us to do just that? To change our path so we can find ourselves again?"

"Yes." The soft, gentle voice came from behind her, eerily familiar. "That's exactly what she wants."

Not daring to breathe, Virginia slowly swung around. Standing beside the rune-scrolled boulder was a woman, dressed in a hooded riding cloak of green velvet, in the cut and style of the Fourth Kingdom, one she recognized from the mausoleum in Wendell's castle.

Beneath it lay a gown of purple satin, and as the woman raised her chin so that the moonlight could spill in luminous streamers across her face, Virginia gasped. The auburn hair swept back severely from a countenance still serenely beautiful despite added age and weight, the green eyes, the crimson lips bearing a warm, loving smile...

"Mom?" Her heart thudded in her chest as she drank in every detail. It couldn't be, she was dead! She'd seen her die, she'd killed her herself! Her gut twisted in remorse.

Christine nodded gravely, catching up the hem of her cloak as she passed soundlessly through the grass. "Don't be so surprised, my daughter. Surely you have surmised, after meeting the undead Swamp Witch, that the barrier between life and death is much more tenuous and permeable here. I am dead, but I can still affect the living, especially in times of great need. My powers are limited—I am no fairy godmother—but by the largess of the May Queen, I was able to come to you now."

Virginia stared at her incredulously, the ball of one hand pressed to her temple. So many conflicting feelings welled up inside her, but at last the one that became predominant was anger. "You have, huh? And where were you all those years ago? Why didn't you come to me then? Why haven't you come to me till now?" She clenched her fists.

Her mother looked away, biting her lip. "I should have expected this..."

"Damn right, you should have!" Virginia snapped. "Did you really think you could come back now, after so much time, after what you did, after what you _said,_ and I'd welcome you with open arms?"

Christine sighed. "No, I suppose not. But I really don't have the time—"

"Well, you'd better _make_ time!" The determination Virginia felt burning inside would not be denied. She had waited fourteen years, had longed to embrace her, kiss her, cling to her—then to yell, to scream, to shake some sense into her mother for leaving her. The one slap she had delivered had not been nearly enough to adequately channel her emotions, even assuming the true impact of the blow had penetrated through the haze of the Wicked Stepmother's spell.

Which reminded her. "You clearly know who I am now, right?" Virginia narrowed her eyes.

Her mother, not a queen and no longer evil, nodded silently.

"Then tell me, Mom. Tell me what happened, tell me why you left me. Why you left Dad." She paused, gathering herself, and then swallowed hard. "Why you tried to kill me."

Christine let her cloak drop so as to bring her gloved hands together and wring them nervously. But finally, after another uncomfortable silence, she nodded again and drew back her hood to fully reveal her features. "All right. I will have to be as brief as possible, but I can see that you need this...that you can't move on and do what is required of you until you learn the truth. And at any rate, my mission here will be much easier if you know the past. We are much alike, Virginia."

Virginia snorted sarcastically, but there was something compelling about her mother's words that made her falter. What if she was right? She had been noticing some disturbing similarities recently...

Some of her confusion and wariness must have shown on her face, for her mother gestured at the boulder. "Sit down, Virginia, and I'll explain."

Both of them moved to seat themselves on the cold granite, the light of the moon and the effulgence given off by the runes providing a stark, frigid illumination that banished all shadows. As she settled into place, Christine took on a ghastly pallor, as if bathed by the footlights of a stage. Indeed, she was on display now for Virginia, who gave her undivided attention as she waited for the explanation so long in coming. The quest, Wolf, Red Riding Hood, it all receded into the background, replaced by impatience...and fear. Did she really want to know?

It was too late to turn back now, for Christine had collected her thoughts and begun to speak. "Virginia, in order to understand what happened, you have to understand something about your grandmother, and about me. I was raised to be part of the high-society world, to believe that was where I belonged. It was my due, my portion. Every day my mother would regale me with tales of the grand parties, the adulation, the power and glamour; I was never allowed to forget that I was my mother's dream, her chance at greatness. And I wanted it, oh how I wanted it!"

Her hands clenched, and an unholy joy burned in her eyes. But after a few moments, the light faded, replaced by emptiness...sadness...loneliness. "Yet one thing always held me back...secretly, I doubted myself. I did not believe I could ever succeed. I would never live up to my mother's fantasies. How could anyone? And the more pressure she placed on me, the more I feared my failure.

"Eventually it got to the point that I almost hated her, and by the time I was seventeen I was in open rebellion of her. I was beautiful, sophisticated, proud, and determined...but it was all a mask, Virginia. Inside I was screaming for freedom, screaming to escape the walls closing in around me. I wanted to be myself, I wanted to make my own choices. I still desired riches, prestige, and glory—that was too ingrained into me by my mother. But I wanted them on my own terms.

"And then I met Tony."

Her mother's face, which had been drawn taut with a smoldering fury so familiar it made Virginia recoil instinctively, now relaxed, becoming gentle, flawlessly soft...happy. Her voice, bitter and broken by despair, turned dreamy now, far distant...with an ache that could never be satisfied. Despite herself, Virginia felt her heart melting; she could never recall her mother being like this before. Snatches of loving tenderness, words of kindness, touches of devotion, yes...those shone in her memories like sparkling jewels. But nothing like this, nothing so uninhibited, so vulnerable. For a fleeting moment she had a sense of what Christine had been like, all those years ago, during that magical courtship.

"I was attending a gala held at the exquisite Plaza Hotel, an obligatory cotillion for a debutante so insignificant that her name escapes me—all I recall is that I far outshone her. My mother was escorting me, showcasing me like a priceless painting for the edification of the elite, even as she pointed out each of the eligible bachelors she deemed worthy of me, the ones that deserved my notice. Her voice restrained me and held me captive more than any chains ever could.

"And then I saw him across the room, so young, so dashing, so handsome, wearing an expensive suit with the longest tails of any man there, and wearing it well. Mother followed my gaze, and instantly grabbed my arm. She told me he was the son of the aging Frederic Lewis and de facto president of Lewis Plastics, a rapidly growing company based in Chicago.

"But she showed only contempt when she spoke of him, calling him _nouveau riche,_ a poseur with no true pedigree, not of the great New York families. He was not born to his prosperity as I had been, for his father had begun his business from scratch, building it from the poorest of origins, and the son did not even possess the wherewithal and intellect necessary for his position. I was to have nothing to do with him."

Christine smiled then, sly and self-congratulatory. "But her words did not have the intended effect. In fact, they drove me toward Tony all the more. Her disapproval made him even more attractive to my rebellious heart, and it would be even more satisfying, I concluded, if I were to find the power and wealth I craved with him. So I demanded she let go of me and pulled free, approaching Tony and asking him to dance." She chuckled softly, stroking her fingers idly along one of the runes.

"I think she would have disowned me for that simple act alone, if she had not been afraid of how it would look to her friends. Instead she fumed and glared at me, but I ignored her. Tony was everything I'd dreamed of, all the more because I had chosen him myself. And I learned as I talked to him that night that he was not only monied, and on the cusp of financial success—his father was quite ill, and soon the company would be his—but he was also a genuinely kind, devoted, and loving man. Nothing like the obnoxious snobs my mother preferred, the ones who believed themselves great by virtue of their names alone. Tony could provide for me, protect me, give me everything I desired—but he was also worthwhile, someone I could love. And I decided then and there that he would be mine."

Virginia frowned, shifting uncomfortably on the stone. Suddenly the story didn't seem romantic anymore, but selfish and possessive—more so because she was certain her father had not known of any of these designs when he had become smitten with her mother. It seemed reminiscent of the arrogance and pride her mother had displayed as the Evil Queen. With a sinking sensation in her heart, she suspected that the Wicked Stepmother had not had a great deal of persuading and enchanting to do to convince her mother to do her bidding...that her mother had not changed as greatly as she wanted to believe.

As if reading her thoughts, Christine sighed, and her expression altered to one of regret. "I know what you must be thinking, Virginia. You think I was only a conceited, calculating gold-digger. And you may be right to think so; it was how I was raised. But my dear, I did truly love your father. In fact I still do. He fulfilled me in every way I could be fulfilled. I only realize now how foolish and vain I was to throw everything I had with him away."

Tears gleamed in her vibrant eyes, but she did not move to wipe them away. "The next time you see him, will you tell him that for me? Tell him I will always cherish the years we had together...that I will always love him, and think fondly of him. I would tell him myself, but I am not certain when or if I will have the chance..." She looked away.

Virginia could barely reply, choked up by her own soft sobs as a great longing, a futile need for what had been lost to return, threatened to swamp her. She reached out and took her mother's hands, flinched when she realized she could touch them. "Oh, Mom...if you loved him so much, why did you leave?" She realized she was repeating her earlier question, but it could never be asked enough. It had been asked all her life, of her father and grandmother, of the silence of her bedroom at night, of God.

A breeze stirred her mother's hair, and tendrils of mist crept up around them like shy kittens searching for attention. Her mother could not meet her eyes, instead studying her hands as if the answers could be found there. "It is...complicated. You won't like the answer, but I can't lie to you. Over the course of a few months I used my feminine wiles, which I was quite the expert at, to make Tony enamored of me. It was easy, for he had already half fallen in love with me that first night, and it helped that I was just as passionate for him.

"We married against my mother's objections, and I smugly moved out of her mansion, free of her forever I thought, to live in a Fifth Avenue penthouse your father bought for us both. His father died, leaving the entire company to him as had been expected, and everything was perfect for the first year." She bit her lip. "Then I became pregnant."

Suddenly the sadness fled, replaced by shock and anger. "What? Are you saying it's my fault you left?" Virginia gripped the moss until it began to rip free of the rock.

Christine hurriedly shook her head. "No! That's not what I mean. Your birth was the start of the problems, yes, but it wasn't you, it was my reaction to it. It was an accident, I forgot to take the pill one month, and that was enough. I wasn't ready to be a mother, I was far too young and immature. I didn't even want a child. But your father was so happy, and Mother was livid, she wanted me to have an abortion to eliminate the colossal mistake. I was no longer pristine, and now I was even further ensconced in a marriage she despised. She was against it...and so I chose to keep you out of spite to her. It was a terrible reason to bring you into the world."

When Virginia spoke next, it was in a whisper. "But...you did love me, didn't you?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation. "When you were born, and placed in my arms, I loved you. I loved you the minute I saw you, and it never faded. In fact, I know you won't believe this, but it was out of love that I made the choices I did."

Virginia's heart grew cold. How could she say such a thing? Abandonment and attempted murder had nothing at all to do with love, and never could no matter how her mother rationalized it. "You're right, I don't believe it."

Letting the matter drop—wisely, Virginia felt—Christine gazed at her for a long moment before returning to her tale. "In any case, once you were born things changed. At first all was well. I took care of you, I read all the right books, I was determined to be the best mother I could be for you. I lavished all sorts of expensive and educational toys on you. I did everything my mother had done for me, finding you the most qualified nanny, the most exclusive play-groups. I made certain our cook served you only the most nutritious and recommended baby food. I thought this was the way to raise you, I had not the slightest idea what true motherhood was like. Delegating others to do it for me seemed natural.

"But then, inexplicably, I developed postpartum depression. My doctor had warned me of it, and I had a therapist; in fact I'd been seeing one ever since I was a teenager. I was already on assorted medications...Ritalin, Prozac...I wasn't well, Virginia. Up to this point it had been under control, contained. Now...now nothing seemed to work. The doctor told Tony and me that it would pass, but it didn't.

"And then calamity struck. Tony went out on a limb, investing all of his company's stock in those ridiculous bouncy castles!" Her eyes flashed. "I tried to tell him not to do it, but he never listened to me when it came to business. He was convinced it was a golden opportunity. And to be fair, many years later bouncy castles became quite popular. But by then it was too late...the market had already plummeted, robbing us of all our wealth. The company went bankrupt and folded, and we were forced to dismiss our servants, sell our cars, our furniture, our penthouse...everything." A strange, detached calm swept over her mother's face. "I would remain with you and your father for six years following...but in my heart I had already left you."

Horrified, Virginia leaped to her feet. "Just because Dad wasn't rich anymore, you _left_ us?" She trembled with her emotion, unable to find a way to release it.

The calm facade shattered, and Christine too rose, an obscure pain in her eyes. For the first time, she seemed unable to find the words. "You...you don't understand, Virginia! I...I...I did love you...I did...but..." She took a deep breath and let it out shakily. "Surely you can see why this would affect me so deeply. I had lived with money all of my life. I didn't know any other way to live—I didn't even think I _could_ live without it! I was completely at a loss...I was paralyzed! I had no notion how those without great wealth lived, how could I? I had always held myself above them. I suppose you could say I deserved this culture shock.

"The problem was, I wasn't strong enough to withstand it. I cracked, Virginia. No one could help me; Tony was so distraught himself over ruining his life and mine that he barely noticed anyone around him. By the time he realized how much I had fallen apart, it was too late. And I wouldn't let him in...I couldn't. I had always been under my mother's thumb, and I saw any attempt to reach me as a chance for me to be weak again, to be controlled. Mother was of no use, all she could do was reiterate over and over how she had told me so, how she had known Tony's fortunes wouldn't last. All I could think was that I had failed. Failed her, myself, you..."

To Virginia's astonishment, her mother collapsed on the stone, weeping bitterly. At once she knew she was witnessing something no one else had ever seen, her mother letting down her guard unconditionally. Forgetting her fury of just minutes before, she rushed to Christine and embraced her as tightly as she could. "No! How could you think that, Mom? It wasn't your fault Dad lost everything...you didn't fail anybody! Who cares what Grandma thought? She doesn't live in the real world anyway."

Christine sniffled and buried her face in Virginia's shoulder, her voice muffled. "No...no, you still don't see." Pulling back, she searched her dress vainly for a handkerchief until Virginia handed her one. Blowing her nose and seeming so far removed from the self-assured and confident woman she had always been, she took Virginia's hand. "Remember what I told you. I was insecure, afraid, uncertain. I let myself be guided by my mother for so long because I knew nothing else to do, I needed someone to take care of me. That was why I was so upset over your conception.

"On the surface I claimed I had better things to do with my time, that I had no need for a child, but inside I knew that I could not take care of another person, a new life. Not that I could not love a child, but that I was not strong enough to raise one, to give it everything it deserved. How could I be, when I could not even take care of myself?" She wiped her eyes and squeezed Virginia's hand. "I would like to think that given time, I could have believed in myself, that I could have fought my insecurity, escaped my depression, and been the mother you needed.

"But we'll never know, my darling, because the loss of everything I knew ruined any chance. You'll think this pathetic, but I even somehow harbored the belief that I was indeed to blame, that if I had not been so attached to wealth Tony would never have made such an investment to finance my greed. That my marrying him for the wrong reasons had come back to haunt me, to teach me a lesson I was not willing or able to learn."

Virginia stared at her mother in disbelief. The words were different, yet they held the same spirit. The doubt, the fear, the anxiety, the insecurity...they all reflected her own worries about herself, about her impending motherhood. Now she understood what her mother had meant about them being alike. She had always thought she had inherited her low self-esteem from Tony, from the wishy-washy attitude best exhibited in the way he always used to fawn when Mr. Murray was around.

But in their journey through the Fourth Kingdom he had proven her wrong, eventually showing a fierceness and determination she'd never known was there, the same determination that had enabled him to go to work every day of her life and take care of her mostly by himself. No, she saw now that her tendency to doubt herself came from her mother.

But Christine was continuing, her voice dull and monotonous. "Even in attempting to take responsibility for what had happened, I was selfish, thinking only of myself and what had been done to me. And I did not even truly know what responsibility was. I went through the motions, but that was all. When we moved into our new home, a town house on East Seventy-third, I was devastated. Your father had to take employment as a bellhop at the Carlyle Hotel, and as a night watchman at the Metropolitan, just to make ends meet, and I had to become a housewife.

"For me it was denigrating, being reduced to this. I would cry myself to sleep every night. And during the day, when I wasn't cleaning or burning the food or floundering about trying to keep up with you, I would go into my room, and look at myself in the mirror. I'd take out one of my fancy dresses, which I had insisted we keep, and hold it up to cover my dirty apron. And I'd dream of having it all back again somehow. I wasn't suited to such a life, yet there I was trapped in it. I wish I knew then what I know now...that hard work builds character, and that my fixation on all my trappings and riches could never truly make me happy."

She folded her hands in her lap and began twisting the handkerchief back and forth, rhythmically, obsessively. "But I refused to grow up. All I could see was that I was not happy where I was. Your father and I had many arguments. We fought about my having to go shopping in a corner grocery store when we should be having caviar and wine. We fought about there being no money to buy a dress I wanted. We fought about the parties I could no longer attend. We even fought about your education when you were old enough. I had wanted you to go to boarding school, then finishing school, just as I had. But we couldn't afford it, and no headmistress would dare accept you after viewing your application. So I managed to turn my concern for your future into another mark against me in society." Sarcasm and self-loathing twisted her lips.

"Eventually I had to find ways to alleviate my depression. I tried going to parties in the dresses I still owned, however gauche it might be not to match the current fashions. But no one accepted me anymore...not only had I lost my riches, but Mother had lost a great deal as well gambling on horse races, and had to move to Gramercy Park. I was seen as following in her footsteps...and instead of taking joy in her being humbled, I despaired at losing my only hope for returning to the elite. The festivities no longer held the attraction they once had...it was all so stale and empty when I remembered what I had to go back to at home, what I would never escape. So then...then I resorted to love affairs to find my happiness."

Christine flicked her eyes to Virginia, who stood in stoic silence, then flushed in shame. "At first I tried to hide it from your father, but then I stopped caring. He was the one who had cost us our livelihood, and he was the one who pressured me to have you, thereby stealing away all my free time and energy. So he didn't matter anymore, only my endless search for another man to satisfy me. But even that died... At last I begged my therapist for help, and he prescribed tranquilizers...and amphetamines." She paused. "You do know what those are?"

Virginia nodded weakly, a cold and sickening mass seeming to form in her stomach. She remembered what her father had told her in Wilhelm Grimm's cell about her mother's sickness and knew what was coming next. "Yeah...uppers."

Christine made a distasteful face at the slang term—as if it mattered what word Virginia used? They were just as dangerous and addictive, whatever the name. "Then you can guess what happened to me. I became dependent on them...I needed them to maintain my happiness, to keep from slashing my wrists, to stay sane. But that was a lost cause, my mind kept slipping anyway...some days I barely even knew who I was or where I was. I vaguely remember a day when your father came home and had to put out a grease fire in the kitchen, and he found me vacuuming the same patch of carpet in the living room over and over." Rubbing her forehead, she closed her eyes for a minute or two. Virginia could only sit down slowly on the boulder and listen in despair.

"He always hoped I would get better, you know," her mother said at last. "And so did I. Not just for me anymore, but also for you. I was finally thinking of someone else...too little, too late. I wanted to protect you. That was why I would come into your room at night and rub my fur coat against your cheek...to let you know there was always someone who would keep you safe." Her face gradually crumpled. "But I even managed to subvert that desire...into trying to drown you...to protect you...from me."

Virginia abruptly stood up again, her hands rising to clutch her head. "What? What do you mean?" It couldn't be true, she couldn't be hearing this...

Her mother began to cry again, openly and unceasingly. "I...I didn't know what else to do...all my fears had come true, I had failed and become a worthless human being in my own eyes. I would never have the life I deserved, or be able to give you the life you deserved. My love for you didn't seem enough. You would only suffer because of my mistakes...marrying Tony, having you, not being strong enough to survive hardship...it all had denied you your birthright.

"I was so utterly unstable that I convinced myself I was the worst possible mother you could have. And worse...I believed you would be better off dead than with me as a mother." Her final words came out with a forcefulness and passion that made Virginia shudder. "That was why I tried to kill you that night, Virginia...out of a twisted, misguided love, I wanted to save you from what I had become, and what I had been, and what I would always be. You deserved better than me...so much better...you were so special, my little girl..."

Breathing shallowly, Virginia felt as if her eyes were on the verge of bulging from their sockets. Shaking her head, slowly at first, then faster, she retreated yet farther back against the rock, sitting down and moaning softly. "No...no, it can't be..." But it was. All of this time, she had thought she was the one who failed, the one who had fallen short of her mother's dreams, that her mother had left her because she was not worth wanting. Yet she had had it backwards.

It was not she. _It was her mother._ Her mother had been the failure, the weak one, through no fault of her own...through upbringing, naiveté, depression, madness. She had been wanted; her mother had simply not been able to believe in her own right to be loved. She had only been abandoned because her mother had first abandoned herself.

As she struggled to come to grips with this revelation, Christine mumbled almost incoherently. "But your father...he came...home...I tried to explain...but there was no excuse, and the drugs...they..." She shook herself and began dabbing at her eyes with the handkerchief. "I just ran. I had to get away...from him, from you, from what I had done, from myself. I had nowhere to go, so I ran into the park. I couldn't believe any of it...what had seemed to make perfect sense before was now the most awful thing I could contemplate.

"What I would have done on my own, I'll never know. Perhaps I would have checked myself into a hospital, or a mental institution. Perhaps I could have been treated.

But instead...I heard a voice, asking if I was lost, and when I looked up, I saw...the mirror. And _her._ I thought I was hallucinating. If only I had been. The Wicked Stepmother offered me freedom from my pain. It sounded so wonderful that I took her hand..."

Trembling, Virginia took her mother's hand herself and held it to her cheek, as if she could intercede and prevent that deadly clasp. Closing her eyes, she wished fervently that she could change the past. It was true that if her mother had never come to the Kingdoms, she herself would never have met Wolf, or found something to believe in again. But so many would have been spared suffering...Wendell and his family, herself and Tony and her mother...

"Oh, Mom...I wish you could have been happy. We loved you so much...we would have forgiven you eventually, if you'd gotten help." Her voice broke.

Christine only looked at her sadly. "And how long would it have been until the next episode? No, even with all the heartache it caused, this way was for the best. It was my destiny. And it did end my pain. The Stepmother, you see, passed me through the Lethe mirror so that I forgot who I was. That was why I never returned to you. And then she used her magic to heal my broken mind. My instability had made me susceptible to her, but it also made me unpredictable. She could not chance the threat that I would break free of her hold. So she healed me, and my soul was hers." She paused. "As yours might be as well, if you do not heed me."

Virginia nearly fell off the rock. "You can't be serious!"

"I am. It is why I am here." Her mother had recovered her composure somewhat, and as she wiped away the last of her tears, her back straightened and she gazed at Virginia with a stern purpose. "The Swamp Witch still lives, and seeks another successor. It could be you, and the possibility grows stronger as you become more and more like me. You know now that we share the same insecurity...the same fear of failure. These are tools the Stepmother can use against you. She who doubts herself will do anything to prove her worth...be it good or evil.

"You also have my bent to revenge. Yours is against the House of Red. Mine was for the House of White. Once I believed the witch's tale, which did not take much persuasion in the state I was in, I was only too glad to help. The tale of Snow White had always seemed to represent for me what I could not have, the Happy Ever After of fairy tales. It seemed only right to me that I gain the power and riches for which I had always yearned by taking them from the House of White. And Wendell had not earned his title or nobility, he deserved to be my victim."

Christine raised her hand to forestall Virginia's protest. "I say this only to show you how easily my emotions were swayed to the Stepmother's cause. You too are in danger of this. You think to save the wolves, and to restore Wolf's good name. But in carrying out a vendetta against Red Riding Hood, you are giving in to the hatred that the Stepmother can use. You have already shown your abilities with magic...and your ability to be tempted." She narrowed her eyes, and Virginia quailed as she realized her mother knew about the Seeking mirror. "I do not wish to see you lose yourself to her, as I did."

Sliding to the ground, Virginia latched onto her mother's gown, giving in to her most primal desire, to cling to her mother and seek her protection. "No...no! Mom, what do I have to do?"

"You must release your insecurity...give it up. Then she will have no power over you. Believe in yourself, and she will not be able to exploit you." Her mother gazed down at her penetratingly, her hair set aglow by the moonlight to form a silvery halo. "And then you will also succeed in your quest. For only by freeing yourself of your insecurity can you gain the dragon's aid, and change the path Red Riding Hood treads. They too must be freed."

Words similar to these flowed through Virginia's mind, words she only remembered now... _Wendell and your father are not the only ones who must be freed... Do not be fooled by appearances. Beauty conceals hate, and ugliness conceals love, but both are plagued by insecurity. Show them the way, and the rest will fall into place..._ She blinked in surprise. "Is that what Snow White meant...?"

Christine nodded. "It is. Only by freeing the dragon from his chains, and Carmine from hers, will you save the Kingdoms. When the dragon believes in himself, he will do what must be done to ensure there will be a future. And when Red Riding Hood can admit that she is wrong, she will work to change that future. It all depends on you...on your example." She ran her gloved fingers over Virginia's chin. "It will be difficult, but I know you can succeed. I am proud of you for what you have done thus far. I know you will make the right choice."

Stunned, Virginia sat back on her haunches and wrestled with all of the implications...the two paths ahead of her, and the consequences that would follow from each. But arching over it all was the one fact that overwhelmed her with its magnitude. Her mother believed in her, and was proud of her. Her mother, whom she had always thought cared nothing for her and did not want her. If her mother could feel this way, then so could she.

Closing her eyes, she thought of everything that she possibly could to bolster her confidence and courage: her father in the cave on Dragon Mountain, saying they could never have gotten that far without her; the earnest expression on Wendell's face as he gave her Snow White's rose, saying he knew not how to thank her for what she had done; Wolf, his handsome face bathed by the light of the fire in the Seven Dwarves' cottage, murmuring she must do something great with her life; the Gypsy Queen, intoning the awed pronouncement that she had a destiny stretching way back in time.

Then she released them, all her fears and insecurities about herself.

With a sharp cry of pain she felt something leave her chest, and when she opened her eyes, a ball of mist twirled and churned before her eyes, drifting soundlessly up to land in her mother's hand, where it was absorbed silently.

"Now, Virginia." Christine smiled warmly, relievedly, her tears vanished into excitement. "Now, I am happy. Your quest is now assured success. And it is all because of the strength you have in your heart. And to think you would not be here if my insane plan had reached its conclusion. It is the first time I am glad of a failure I made." A small wry smile appeared on her lips. Then she lowered her eyes to Virginia's swollen stomach. "But now that failure has been turned into a victory, for I know that even once I am gone, you will carry on as the mother I could never be, the mother you were destined to be."

Speechless, Virginia remained unmoving on the dewy ground until her mother rose from the rock and stepped back, lifting her hood into place once more. "Wait...that's it? You tell me all that, you take away my insecurity, and then you just leave?"

"I'm sorry, my darling." Her mother's image was becoming transparent. "I have stayed long beyond my allotted time. I can only hope you will use wisely what I have told you...and that you can find it in your heart to forgive me, and no longer think ill of me. I know there is no excuse for what I did, but at least now you can be certain of one thing. That I love you...and am proud of the woman you have become. The woman who saved me from myself...and found her own faith again."

The glow of the boulder grew brighter, washing out Christine's figure until it vanished altogether, but her voice lingered. "Now you have changed the road you're on..."

When Virginia's eyes cleared of the dazzling light, she blinked in astonishment. Now there was only one passage through the hedges leading out of the rondure. Slowly she rose to her feet and gazed around, trying to combat the throb of pain inside her, stronger than the strange sense of loss she felt at being deprived of the insecurity that had been her companion for so long. As she glanced at the stone, she saw her handkerchief lying alone and forlorn and picked it up. It was still wet with her mother's tears.

She pressed the handkerchief to her bosom. "Thanks, Mom..."

Somewhere in the maze, much closer than before, she heard a voice calling. "Virginia?"

"Wolf?" Overcome by emotions to which she could not put a name, with only an aching love for her mate clearly identifiable, she hurried down the passage, turning a corner and racing along, faster and faster, toward where her instincts told her to go. After ten minutes, she whirled around another zigzagging bend and emerged in another rondure, at least three times the size of the first and filled with surging mist. She knew at once it was the center of the maze.

At the far side she saw movement, a figure...a figure who scratched at his temple.

She ran toward him.

* * *

Red Riding Hood III kicked and struggled futilely on the ground, shrieking helplessly, her back pressed into a sharp rock that dug painfully into her flesh, even through her riding dress. With her bonds still restraining her wrists and ankles, she felt rather like a serpent or a worm slithering about, an image that made her cry out in impotent rage. No royal should ever be treated so improperly, so brutally! That she was reduced to squirming in the dirt was intolerable; truly her captors were beasts, barbarians.

As soon as the tremors had stopped and the ground was stable again, she sat up and looked around. She was alone, in between two hedges that seemed to extend infinitely into the distance. There was no sign of Wolf or the Lady Virginia, thank goodness, nor that incompetent Piper who had dropped her. Yet she quickly ascertained the May Queen had trapped her in a cunning maze, and even were she not a captive, she could not effect an escape in this condition.

Very well. First things first. Scouting about, she soon located the stone that had been such a literal pain in her side. Frowning, she wriggled to her knees and considered the jagged piece of slate before crouching down and briskly chafing her ropes against it. After a few minutes the fibers parted, freeing her hands. Rearranging herself to place her feet over the rock required some maneuvering that was most degrading, but luckily there was no one to see. Soon her feet were released, and she was free at last.

Next on the agenda was finding a way out of this maze, but Carmine soon discovered that this would be a much more difficult task. As she hurried down the passage and came upon an intersection, she paused in a pool of moonlight and listened intently. In the distance she could hear both Wolf and Virginia calling out to one another, and their voices sounded quite faint and indistinct. Apparently she was the farthest away from the center and had the farthest to go. The symbolism of this was not lost on her, and she curled her lip in contempt.

Catching up her skirt, she picked her way through the swirling mist, her blood boiling. This was intolerable! She should be safe and warm in her castle, surrounded by the comforts of regality, waited on by countless servants, sleeping on silk sheets and dining on the most expensive and delicious meals. Instead she was here, cold and alone, unprotected, at the mercy of her enemies and strange magic she barely understood. All she could hope was that she could find her way clear of the labyrinth and escape back to Incarnadine before her captors could find her.

For close to half an hour she threaded the maze, her cogent mind easily catching on to the pattern, but her progress was slowed by what she considered cheating on the part of the May Queen—every now and then she would hear a rustling behind her and turn only to see another hedge preventing her from retreating if she made a mistake. Sometimes new openings would materialize in front of her as well. At first she ignored the obvious invitations, choosing other paths, but those somehow led invariably to dead ends. Cursing under her breath, she at last gave in to the maze's will and went where she was directed to go.

"When I get free of this trap," she muttered to herself, "I shall make Wolf suffer for this." It felt good to place the blame on him, as it had for the past thirteen years, as it had ever since Cerise's death...since Cerise had taken her own life, proclaiming that her sister had driven her to it.

No! That was not true, it could not be true, it would never be true. She refused to accept it, for that would mean something so terrible, so impossible, that she simply could not face it. No, her sister had been wrong, deluded by her own emotions, that was all. She had woven a fabric of happiness about herself as weak and fragile as a spiderweb, for wolves could not love.

Nevermind the way Wolf had apologized to Virginia; nevermind the genuine pain she had seen in his eyes as he silenced her, the devotion she had witnessed to his mate and unborn mongrel child. It was all an act, a pretense for her benefit and Virginia's, to fool them and conceal his true unbridled lusts so that he could ravish them with impunity. The savagery, the cruelty, the arrogance, the violence he had displayed in her boudoir and in the journey since, that was the real Wolf. The love and gentleness, those were not a part of him, they could not be. _They could not be._

Screaming in outrage at her own traitorous thoughts, Red Riding Hood III flung herself blindly around the next corner, not even paying attention to her surroundings—as if she could cast away her doubts and uncertainties and guilt and leave them behind in the confusing angles and winding courses of the maze.

After a time, she recovered enough presence of mind to observe where she was. With frightening clarity she realized she had been choosing passages at random, and had no idea of her location. She was lost. Fool, fool, ten times a fool!

In the hedgerow ahead, a patch of moonlight shone through a side opening, scintillating on the swirling mist and bisecting the passage with a pallid rectangle bathing the opposite hedge. Somehow she did not trust it; she could not see what lay out of sight, what might be waiting for her... Fiddling nervously with her rings, she sidled along the hedge until she was almost to the turning, where she paused and took a deep breath. She was a great queen; she had no cause to be afraid, or at least to show it. Rising to her full height, she stepped boldly into the light.

It was an arbor, the top of the passage enclosed by intertwining branches of yew to form a trellis-like structure, shutting away almost all light. The narrow pathway, sheltered and hidden from any intrusion, extended for thirty meters or so, rather like the aisle to her throne. Except for a few breaks in the branches, the only light came from the far end. The rest lay in foggy darkness.

Even more filled with dread, Carmine crossed the threshold of the arbor, reluctant to leave the comforting moonlight. Every nerve tingled, warning her of her grave error in judgment, but she continued on, somehow drawn toward what might be found beyond. She had only gone a few more steps when a swift rustling came from behind her. Horrified, she turned to see the hedge had closed, sealing her off. Now there was no way to go but forward.

Looking back that way, she was somehow not surprised to see a figure appear, blocking out the light. She could tell at once by the physique and shapeliness that it was a woman, but the height ruled out Lady Virginia, and it was far too human in its curves to be the May Queen—not to mention the lack of the telltale fragrance of hawthorn, and the fact that this woman wore a long, opulent dress of ancient design. But who else could be in the maze with her? A summoning of magic, she rapidly concluded, and her breathing quickened.

Proceeding tremulously down the arbor, the queen tugged her riding cloak tighter as the biting chill of the air seemed to increase. When she was halfway along the passage between the yews, she stopped again and called out imperiously. "Who are you, and why do you obstruct my path?"

"You know very well who I am, if you search your heart." The voice was crisp, no-nonsense. It was also shockingly familiar. "But come closer so I may speak to you, and then there will be no doubts."

Keeping her eyes riveted on the mysterious woman, Carmine complied, passing soundlessly down the cloistered passage as the wind set the branches overhead to creaking eerily. As she at last reached the end of the arbor, she peered searchingly at the lady's downturned face, concealed by shadows and thick, glorious curls of the richest red framing rosy cheeks and a wholesome complexion more suited to a milkmaid than a lady of station.

Her breath caught in her throat. No. It could not be. But it was, there was no denying it, especially once the woman lifted her chin and the hair fell away to unveil emerald eyes of such intensity and wisdom. And the dress she wore matched precisely one Carmine had seen every day of her reign, in a portrait hung within her own chambers at the palace. Even the magnificent mane of hair spilling down well below the woman's hips marked who she was.

It was her grandmother, Red Riding Hood the First.

Awed and overjoyed, Carmine could barely speak. Her grandmother had died when she was five, so she had not known her very long or very well, but she remembered vividly what a strong-willed, formidable woman she had been. She recalled the stories told on her grandmother's lap, tales of the history of the Nine Kingdoms—how the original Naked Emperor had in his vanity been conned by two wily tailors into wearing nothing at all, after he rejected all their previous designs; how Snow White had been poisoned with the magic apple her jealous stepmother had tricked her into eating; how a lost glass slipper had made Cinderella the scullery maid into the queen she was destined to be.

Most of all, Carmine recalled the oft-told tale of Old Grey and the woodsman, and how her grandmother had escaped the terrible fate of being devoured. It was that very story that had convinced her of the true terror and bestiality of wolves.

She owed everything to her grandmother—her throne, her kingdom, her policies and laws, her view of the world. And now she was here before her.

"Grandmother!" she cried, throwing dignity to the wind and rushing to her side, embracing her tightly. "I can't believe it...I simply cannot...this is like a dream come true!" Pulling back, she clasped her grandmother's hands. "Please, tell me you are here to help me, that you can rescue me from these terrible conditions! I cannot stand it a moment longer!"

Red Riding Hood gazed at her wordlessly, then shook her head. "I am afraid not, my child. I am here to help you, yes...but I have no magic, no miraculous intervention on your behalf that I can apply. Being one of the Five Women Who Changed History does not entitle me to special powers. I am only a woman, Carmine. A woman who knows what she wants and works to achieve it. A woman who uses her strength to affect change in the world. This is what I have done, and what you have done as well. And now I am here to ensure that the changes you bring are the ones that will save the Kingdoms, rather than destroy them."

Carmine froze, her blood turning to ice in her veins. Disregarding the term "child", a term she accepted from her grandmother when she would accept it from no other, she instead focused on the spirit's affirmed purpose. With a wary mind and quaking heart, she knew at once that Red Riding Hood brought tidings she did not want to hear...words that would be painful and difficult to accept. Stepping back slowly, she frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, my dear, that you are standing on the brink of great challenges and choices." Red Riding Hood's expression was sympathetic, yet stern. "Much is set before you, and you must not falter, you must not ignore your responsibilities and duties, to yourself or your realm, or you will place everyone in grave peril."

Indignation and ire gradually replaced worry and uncertainty. This was her ancestress, founder of the House of Red, yet she did not have the right to make judgments and assumptions concerning her descendants! Narrowing her eyes, Carmine snapped, "What makes you think that is what I am about, Grandmother? I have never abrogated my responsibilities, and never shall. I am frankly insulted you would think otherwise."

Red Riding Hood sighed and gave her a steady look. "Yet you are disavowing your duties at this very moment, Granddaughter. You have been doing so for years...ever since the death of your sister. Ever since you began your campaign against wolves." The scorn in her voice was palpable.

Cold. Bitter, unwavering, pervasive cold, embedded in the core of her bones. That was what Carmine felt. She could not believe it. It simply was not possible. Her own grandmother, victim of a wolf attack herself so many years ago, now chastising her for enforcing laws against the beasts. Her dream had become a nightmare. From Wolf or the Lady Virginia, she could expect this. But from Red Riding Hood? She would never say such things...

A dark and disturbing thought insinuated itself into her mind. What if this were not her grandmother after all? What if it were only a construct of the May Queen's magic? The May Queen was long known to be the adversary of the Ice Queen. If the quest of her captors was genuine, it might well be that the nature spirit would go to any lengths to guarantee their success—even impersonating her grandmother in order to sway her to their cause, to no longer impede their progress. Yes, the more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that this was not real, it was merely an illusion. She closed her eyes and concentrated, willing the false facade away.

"There's no use in trying to banish me. It won't work; I am real, and will not leave until you have heard what I have to say." Her grandmother's voice was chiding, bold, and disapproving. Exactly as she remembered it. Could the May Queen's magic be that adept?

Opening her eyes, she squinted at Red Riding Hood, then finally gave up in disgust, crossing her arms violently across her chest. She knew she was pouting but couldn't help it. It would have made things so much easier if this had not been real. Now instead she had to face the possibility that her grandmother truly was disappointed in her...that she was indeed restless in her grave as the Lady Virginia had claimed.

Somehow Red Riding Hood seemed to read her mind. "I'm not disappointed in you, my dear, as much as I am disappointed in myself."

Carmine was stunned. "What? How can you say such a thing? You have done nothing wrong, you were a great queen and shaper of history! My mother and I modeled ourselves exactly on your reign, that is how we have come to our present prosperity. That is why I cannot conceive how you can condemn my course of action with the wolves. You yourself taught us they were nothing but vicious, bloodthirsty monsters!"

"Exactly. That is where I made my mistake. That is where I failed you, and myself, and our Kingdom." Her grandmother's face was ashen, her eyes haunted and dull as she averted them. Suddenly she seemed less solid, more ghost-like, as if the prospect of failure were undermining the spell that held her here.

Feeling rather faint herself, as the blood drained from her face, the queen wished vainly for a place she could seat herself other than the cold, wet earth. But the arbor had opened into only another hedgerow crossing at right angles, with no rocks or fallen logs in sight. "I don't understand..."

Red Riding Hood raised her eyes again, remorseful and self-accusing. "Must I be blunt with you, Carmine? I was wrong. Scarlett was wrong. And you are wrong. All of us, from the beginning, were wrong about wolves. They are not evil, or monstrous beasts, or cannibalistic demons of the night. They have hearts, and feelings, and intellect the same as we do...in fact they often surpass us. We have feared and hated them for what we believe they can do...but it was all lies. And what little was true only applied to rogues, renegades, criminals, the same sorts of nasty elements found within our own society." Her voice shook as she repeated herself. "We were wrong..."

Staggering back, Carmine did not know whether to cover her ears, or scream, or run past her grandmother deeper into the maze. Only the weakness in her knees prevented her from choosing the latter course. _"What?_ No! No, that cannot be true! Old Grey, consider what he did to your grandmother, to you! He proves the vile treachery of wolves!"

The expression on Red Riding Hood's face, a blending of reproach, guilt, and pity, shook Carmine. "Is that the extent of your experience? Did I raise a daughter and granddaughter so narrow-minded as to base their entire opinion of a species on one individual case of violence and deception? If so, then I am even more to blame for all the suffering and death than I knew." Her shoulders slumped, and suddenly the great queen no longer seemed regal and self-assured. She seemed to have returned to the simple and frightened little girl named Ruby she had once been.

"Old Grey was only one wolf among many, Carmine. Only one. You cannot punish every wolf for his misdeeds, you cannot appoint yourself judge, jury, and executioner in my name. Old Grey is long dead by my father-in-law's axeblade, and killing the entire population of wolves will never give you the justice you seek. He is dead, Carmine. Dead! Let it go..."

Too infuriated to speak—and too overcome by the remote possibility that her grandmother could be right, that all these years she had actually been murdering Old Grey and disguising it as justice for all humans—Carmine stood speechless. Yet Red Riding Hood did not relent, pressing her case. "What would you have done, Carmine, if the one who had killed my grandmother and tried to kill me had been an Elf? Would you have declared war on the Seventh Kingdom and attacked it when it appeared at dawn and dusk? Arrested Elves and stripped them of their wings?

"And what if it had been a farmer, or a tailor? Would all farmland be repossessed by the crown, would tailors' shops be outlawed?" Her grandmother was impassioned now, her cheeks flaming red with life and vitality, displaying the temper and determination for which she was legendary. "Who then would you be burning? And meanwhile, the wolves whom you so gleefully hate would live in peace, unmolested, simply by an accident of fate. Do you see? Your hatred is arbitrary, you have no basis for it."

Finally finding her voice, Carmine recovered her sense of poise and self-confidence, and as she replied her own temper began to flare. "No basis? No basis? What of the many wolf attacks there have been on livestock, on farms, on lonely forest roads? What of the murder trials?"

"Where do you expect wolves to find their meat when game is scarce?" her grandmother retorted. "As for those attacks and murder trials, very few of them were based on fact. Wolves have no need to stalk and kidnap children, let alone eat them. The vast majority of such cases were fabrication, the product of fear and hate in the common people, of exaggeration or mistaken identity or bald-faced lies by disgruntled farmers and trappers and avaricious townsmen seeking rewards for accusing their neighbors of crimes. It is the nature of the system, which is also my fault.

"I was so naive...I arranged it to run itself, assuming foolishly that the innate goodness and sense of justice in my people would serve as the only monitoring and self-policing it would need. It took me years to overcome my fear of wolves and my naiveté. Eventually I developed the nerve to conduct research and studies on wolves, and visited wolven villages and packs, but by the time I realized my error and went to modify the system it was too late. The corruption and prejudice and hatred had already solidified, and I could change nothing.

"The only way I could undo the damage was to wipe out the bureaucracy altogether and start over. But when I suggested it, your mother removed me from the throne, assuming I had become senile in my old age." She paused at last to take a deep breath. "That is why it is now up to you to do what I could not."

Carmine's knees finally gave out, and she collapsed against one of the hedges, her riding hood falling back as she shook her head in horror. "How...how dare you...how can you make such a demand, Grandmother? Even were I to agree, the people would never accept it! And in any case, you must be mad to think I would ever change my policy against wolves. They are animals, filthy animals, and deserve nothing but our contempt!"

Somehow it was very important to her that she not acknowledge wolves as more than animals. If she did, she would have to admit that they could feel human emotions, and that road was one she would not, could not travel.

Red Riding Hood rather looked as if she would slap her granddaughter, and Carmine instinctively lifted her hands to protect her face. But the former queen relaxed at last, although her fingers flexed suggestively. "The people would accept it if you introduced the reforms gradually, and if you accompanied them with proclamations, addresses to the public, and education packets. As to the wolves...what is so wrong with being an animal? I know that we, as humans, have always believed ourselves to be superior.

"But in studying the wolves I learned they have their own civilization, their own culture, their own magic, their own beliefs, their own dreams and hopes. In short, they are as deserving of respect as we are. We share this land with them, and we should treat them with courtesy. In addition, think of the assets they could bring to the Kingdom if they fought at our side rather than against us! Loyalty, bravery, nobility, honor...they defend their families to the death. We would do well to remember their example." A smoldering fury blazed in her grandmother's emerald eyes, and she realized at once the reference made—to Cerise and how Carmine had acquitted herself in that situation. She quailed.

"No, wolves are not filthy and vile creatures...they are vital to the ecology of the forest—we would be overrun by deer and rabbits if not for them. It is my fault you and your mother came to hate them. I led you astray with my own experiences, which were unique. I also led you to believe you were infallible, that you could never be wrong and so all must bend to your will. My insecurity as a new queen caused this. And so when I implemented my programs and laws, I sent the wrong message to everyone. I never intended for them to be so abused and misapplied. That was Scarlett's doing...she encouraged it, as you did, believing it was what I wished. And now your own insecurity is making you cling to your hatred." Red Riding Hood looked more forlorn and distraught than Carmine could ever remember.

But at the moment she did not care how tortured and guilt-ridden her grandmother's soul might be. Hearing Red Riding Hood praise wolves, and blame her own attitude on insecurity rather than the just cause and innate superiority of the House of Red, made Carmine's heart pound with rage. Nevermind that all her life she had indeed always been compensating for her inner doubts, always searching for ways to win the respect and approval of the other monarchs, whom she knew belittled and insulted her behind her back. That did not matter, because she knew this time she was in the right.

"Grandmother! Why are you saying this, where are you finding this drivel? Wolves as noble creatures, the laws as abused and unfair, our family as weak-willed and misled by wrongful prejudice! You should have nothing to do with this, it makes no sense!" Questing for a reason, a method to unravel her grandmother's arguments, she latched onto Cerise. "Did someone coerce you into it? Was it my sister?"

"Carmine!" Red Riding Hood's voice lashed out like a whip, making Carmine recoil. If she had had any further doubts as to her truly being her grandmother, they were shattered now. The fury that could slice through the most chiseled of hearts, which she remembered well from the days of childhood punishment, was unmistakable. It was the same mettle that had served her well in her confrontations with Old Grey.

"I say this of my own free will. It is what I believe. I know this is a great shock to you, and will be hard for you to deal with, but there are other opinions besides yours that matter. I have had no contact with Cerise. It is true the May Queen considered summoning her here to speak with you, but I prevailed on her to send me instead. I knew you would never listen to Cerise, particularly on this matter. You never did when she lived." Her tone was brittle, her words spoken between clenched teeth.

For a brief instant Carmine felt a surge of despair and loneliness as she realized her own stubbornness and pride had prevented her from having a reunion with the sister she had so cherished and loved. But only for an instant, before the understanding of why this meeting had been denied her became clear. "You are absolutely right, Grandmother! I did not listen to her, and would not now, if it meant hearing more lies about wolves! She was fooled by the grandson of Old Grey, fooled into believing he could truly love, and it was her choice to lose her life for him, not mine! If I had to hear her say once more how wonderful he was and how wrong I was to condemn him to death...then I am glad you came instead of her! In that case, I never want to see her again!"

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, although she regretted them in the same breath. Horrified, she covered her mouth with one shaking hand and stared at her grandmother, who in turn looked as if she could not believe she was a blood relative to someone so callous and selfish. "I...I didn't mean that..." But that was the crux of the matter—in that fit of temper, she had indeed meant it. And even if her anger at Duncan and wolves in general had placed her in that state of mind, she could not blame them—she was the one in charge of her own emotions. It was up to her how to react, how to feel, what to say and do. And she had chosen this.

"What have I become...what have I become..." Dissolving into tears, she at last collapsed on the dewy grass, sobbing at her grandmother's feet.

After a while she felt a hand stroking her hair, and she looked up to see Red Riding Hood gazing down at her regretfully. "You have become a shell, my child. What began as an attempt to protect your people and please me transformed into an obsession, and the hatred has consumed you. There is only cruelty and revenge in you now; there is no room for love or compassion in your heart...for humanity." Pain etched the lines of her face and the tendons of her throat.

"No..." Carmine whispered. "No...there must be a way to change it...another way..." Her eyeshadow and mascara were running, she could feel it as she wiped at her eyes, but for once she did not care. For she was desperate to evade the truth her grandmother had offered. It was quite beyond her.

"There is no other way." Red Riding Hood sighed. "I do not expect you to change overnight. All I ask is that you relinquish your hatred for wolves, and at least promise to keep an open mind. You will find, if you only allow yourself to truly see, that wolves are not what you think...that Wolf is not what you think. But that will take time. This is only the first step of many on your journey back to yourself. For now, only end your vendetta...listen and learn."

A great struggle ensued in Carmine's heart. A part of her, a rapidly growing part, longed to do as her grandmother asked. She was weary of hatred, weary of the toll it took on her, and she wanted to be free of its burden. But another part of her, the darkness in her soul, refused to let go. "I...I can't. I just can't. Don't you understand? After what was done to my sister...by the grandson of Old Grey..."

"Duncan," Red Riding Hood said softly.

"What?"

Her grandmother fixed her eyes on Carmine's. "He had a name, my dear. His identity was not limited by his ancestry. Just as it was not limited by his species."

There was nothing Carmine could say to that. She only stared vacuously, silently.

Several more minutes passed, and then Red Riding Hood lifted her face to the moonlit heavens and closed her eyes. "I had hoped it would not come to this, but you have forced my hand." She opened her eyes again. "If you will not give up your hatred for yourself, or for me, then you will do it for your kingdom."

Carmine frowned warily. "What are you talking about?"

Red Riding Hood folded her hands neatly in front of her. "Let's use logic, shall we? If you continue your course and maintain your policy as it is, eventually one of two things will happen. Either the wolves will rise up against you, or they will depart your Kingdom forever. The first choice is obviously undesirable. As to the second, I am aware that the exodus has already begun, and is likely to increase." As the queen's face lit up and she prepared to speak, her grandmother rushed on.

"But before you start to celebrate, let me remind you of certain facts you have conveniently forgotten. The wolves constitute over half of your population. What do you think will happen if they all migrate to the Fourth and First Kingdoms? Many of them are profitable members of your society, though you in your ignorance do not know it—merchants, farmers, hunters, soldiers. Even more of them buy, trade, and sell goods.

"If they depart, your economy will collapse, your army will be attritioned, and your food supply will dwindle. Famine and poverty will be rampant, and your people will suffer. It is human nature to seek a scapegoat, to find someone to blame and hate. But their favorite target, the wolves, will be gone. Who then will they turn on?" Red Riding Hood paused significantly, her jade eyes boring in.

All throughout this speech, Carmine had listened with growing horror. Now at last she found her voice, and was not surprised to hear it tremble in fear. "Me?"

Her grandmother nodded grimly. "The government is visible, overt by its very nature. They will come after you, my dear. They will seek you out, and if pressed hard enough, revolt. Your army will not only be outnumbered, but many soldiers will be similarly disgruntled, as you will not be able to pay their salaries in a time of such paucity. You will be toppled from your throne. Perhaps even executed.

But in any case, your Kingdom will then be weak, ready pickings for the Trolls, who have ever cast their eyes northward in search of new lands to conquer. And if the Second Kingdom falls, the Fourth will face enemies on two borders. The Nine Kingdoms will fall, one by one, like a line of dominoes. And all because you refused to be lenient with the wolves."

She fell silent, and the sudden quiet was like the slamming of a cell door, or the pounding of nails into a coffin. Carmine's heart thudded against her chest, and she took huge gulps of air as she fought with her conscience. The words were familiar, as they or ones like them had been spoken by a few of the wiser, braver heads among her advisers. She had refused to believe it before; but now they echoed with the inevitability of truth.

She trembled, then shuddered, feeling her will give way before the onslaught of reasons why she should relent. The only one remaining that still cried for hatred was retreating, fading into a whimpering whisper, revealed as what it truly was—pettiness, arrogance, the petulance of a child wanting its own way simply because, in the child's world, no one else's needs mattered.

But that was not true, and she knew it. She cared for her people, for her kingdom, for her world. She cared for her grandmother, and no longer wished to upset and anger her, making her spirit restless and contrite. She wanted to please her; and even if she could not accept most of what Red Riding Hood had told her, she was a practical woman, and knew the reality of the situation. For the sake of her kingdom, and her own heart, she had to abandon her hatred.

The continued persecution would not bring justice to Old Grey, nor would it prevent any more like him from arising; in fact it would likely create such wolves out of spite and revenge. All it could do for her now was plant the seeds for future conflicts, while assuaging her guilt for not being able to help her grandmother or her sister.

Only it would not stay buried; it would continue to haunt her until she dealt once and for all with Wolf and the past. But that need not involve the other wolves. That was personal, between her and Wolf.

Slowly, reluctantly, digging in her nails all the way, she let go of the hatred that had held her in thrall for so long, that had been destroying her from the inside out.

Her heart lurched, and a scream of such piercing anguish and wailing agony split the air. It took her a shocked moment to realize it clawed its way from her own throat. It was like the scream of a banshee, or a victim of unending Troll torture, dying and yet still suffering from a spiritual pain that would last for eternity. It scraped her bones raw.

But at last it ceased, and she tumbled to the earth in a pitiful heap. She could only lie there, aching and moaning, watching with unfocused eyes as a ball of dark gray mist wafted up from her chest, roiling and churning like a stormcloud, until it was caught by her grandmother's outstretched hand and disappeared.

As if from a long way off, Carmine heard Red Riding Hood speak. "I know you are in pain now, but one day you will thank me for this. You will realize that today was the day you chose to start your new life...to save yourself from the darkness. And in time, you will forgive yourself, and dwell only on a bright future." She paused. "Then you will be a queen to make me proud."

Carmine did not answer; she only wept. She wept instinctively, unceasingly, her hands pressed to her face as she shivered in loss and visceral, gut-wrenching waves of pain. Her grandmother had said she was only a shell filled with hatred, and now, now she knew how right she had been. For without the hatred of wolves, she felt only empty, hollow, like a statue of clay or one of her dressmaker's mannequins. She wanted to crumble, to break apart. It hurt so much. Yet at the same time she inexplicably felt nothing—as if with the one great support of her life taken away, she knew not how to replace it. Nothing rushed in to fill the void. It remained empty.

After a long time, the pain finally receded enough to become manageable, and she was able to sit up, although every limb tremored as if afflicted with palsy. Looking around, she found she was alone, exactly as she felt inside, and with a cry of despair, she stumbled to her feet and ran.

She fled, fled the arbor, fled what she had wrought, fled herself. But when she reached the end of the hedgerow and flung herself around the corner, she slid to a stop. Before her lay a vast, circular space in the center of the maze, filled with thick silvery mist that resembled a storm-tossed sea. Vaguely, through the haze, she could see two other figures emerge from other passages, and she knew they had to be Wolf and Virginia. They ran toward each other.

But before they could meet, the mist heaved upwards into a column, borne on a cyclone that soon gathered up twigs, leaves, and branches in a blur of motion. Recognizing the phenomenon at once, Carmine watched breathlessly as the May Queen's faceless visage and massive body formed anew. Terrifying, ancient, venerable, she made Carmine fall to her knees in fear. She wanted to hide her face, but her hands were frozen.

Then she blinked. At the May Queen's feet, three ephemeral silhouettes stood, arms upraised. One she saw instantly was her grandmother, but the other two...one was Wolf's father, and the other was the Evil Queen!

Three balls of mist rose from the spirits' hands, like offerings to a divine power, but before Carmine could focus on them, they were gone, absorbed into the May Queen's foggy framework. When she looked down, the spirits were gone as well.

"You have done well." The May Queen's voice boomed out across the valley, reverberating as from a wave-washed cavern. "Your gifts please me, and my laws are fulfilled. As I promised, you have won your own freedom, and are released. One day you will learn that, in fact, you have benefited the most, and received the true gifts. It is up to you now to make the most of it...to follow your paths wherever they may lead you."

A crack of thunder shook the maze, and Wolf and Virginia fell to the ground as well, holding and protecting each other. A wash of wind buffeted them all, racing outwards from the center, and then the May Queen vanished. The hedges began to glow, brighter and brighter, and then dissolved into mist which instantly whipped away, clearing the valley.

Beyond the perimeter of the final hedgerow, the hawthorn bushes began to shimmer and ripple, and then their incandescent white petals fluttered free, rising high in a flurry of movement, no longer blossoms but plume moths, feathery and delicate, like frozen filigree. Entranced by their beauty, Carmine kept her eyes on them, watching, watching, as they rose high into the deep blue vaults of the night sky.

When they had departed, she shook herself, as if awaking from a dream, and looked back to earth. What she saw startled her. The valley was completely empty—the hedges, the mist, the hawthorns, all had been swept away during the brief flight of the plume moths, as if they had never been. For miles in every direction, she could see only waving grass, interrupted only by a narrow, dusty road leading to the northwest. All that remained to mar the plain, and remind her of her experience, was the fairy-ring, glimmering with dew in the pale moonlight.

Somewhere nearby she could hear a voice shouting, and she turned with disinterest to see the Piper running toward her, his handsome features alight with relief and happiness. But she soon looked away again, for there was something much more compelling to see. Even as he reached her side and helped her to her feet, she could not tear her gaze away from the center of the valley.

There, standing where the May Queen had been, were Virginia and Wolf...embracing, kissing, shedding tears of joy, clinging to each other as if they were one being, never to be divided again. The moon highlighted their forms, made each tender gesture and loving glance stand out with great clarity. And as Carmine stared at them, she felt something begin to stir within, something growing gradually to replace the lonely emptiness...a sense of wonder, as she witnessed her captors' reunion with new eyes...


	12. Eleven: Terror in the Night

**Eleven**: Terror in the Night

Forcing a cheery smile onto her face, Virginia waved in what she hoped was a convincing manner as she stood on the edge of Pumpkin Village. In the gardens of the nearest gourd houses, several housewives in plain cotton dresses, starched aprons, and almost identical bonnets were tending the rebellious soil, which obstinately refused to yield healthy vegetables in any great quantity. A few of them joined the pompous Mayor in waving back.

Eventually they lost their interest in the travelers, and the housewives went back to work while the Mayor turned back for the town hall. Virginia breathed a sigh of relief. One more minute spent in that town and she would have screamed. The Mayor had been so insufferably condescending to her due to her gender—she knew the whole time they were speaking he had been itching to seal her in a pumpkin shell and keep her in her place as his ancestor Peter had done.

Only Wolf and Colin had received his respect, and she remembered vividly a snatch of their arrogant conversation: "You let your woman speak up in public like that? I've got a rutabaga rind you can muzzle her with!" On top of that, the overripe stench of the hollow houses had nearly knocked her down with its strength. She'd had to breathe shallowly through her mouth to avoid throwing up.

But luckily it was over now. Glancing at Wolf, she saw him roll his eyes in the direction of the village and laughed gratefully.

Shouldering her rucksack once more, she linked arms with him and led the way down the rutted roadway. As she rubbed her hand absently over the pack's leather strap, her thoughts ran back to how fortunate they had been to find it, lying in a heap in the empty field after the departure of the May Queen and her enchanted hedge maze. It had been the only supplies left from their spooked horses, but to her relief it had contained not only the Troll King's magic shoes, but enough bread and sausage to tide them over until they could reach the next village and purchase more provisions.

The horses had been a lost cause, long gone from the vale and certainly well on their way back to their warm stalls at the palace stable in Incarnadine. So they had elected to camp last night in a small grove of spruce sheltered at the base of the next hill, as Wolf had informed them that it would not be a long journey now to the Sixth Kingdom.

Memories of her and Wolf snuggling and cuddling for warmth inside his greatcoat as they lay curled at the pungent, piney base of a tree, between its humped roots, returned to Virginia, and she smiled. It had felt so good, so right, to be back in his arms with her cheek against his chest. A giggle escaped her as she recalled the less than romantic embrace Carmine and the Piper had shared out of necessity.

It surprised her at first that she could find anything amusing about a woman she still harbored great distrust and anger toward, and that Red Riding Hood in turn would put up with such an indignity and violation of her royal person. But she found that her own attitude had changed a great deal after her experience in the maze, and she suspected the same was true of Wolf and Red as well. Even now she observed that the queen of the Second Kingdom was strangely subdued. She was not complaining about anything, even the lack of horses, which was extremely odd.

(Wolf had advised against purchasing horses in Pumpkin Village after they arrived there in the morning, as they were so close to the border it would be silly to ride there only to have to set their mounts free, since they could not be taken through the dangerous brambles. Also, between the provisions and the horses they would have been out of Wendells.)

Somehow the fact that Carmine was not whining about sore feet or the demeaning of her station by walking on the ground amongst them gave Virginia hope. If her vanity could take such a beating, perhaps her closed-mindedness had as well. Perhaps there was still a chance to get through to the queen about wolves—which she must do, for Wolf's sake, for the Kingdoms, and for Red herself.

What gave Virginia even more hope was the change in Wolf. The wall between them, the painful and yearning distance between them that had existed since the escape from the palace, since he had been overwhelmed by his hatred and desire for revenge—it was gone, all gone. Wolf was back to his old self, smiling, bounding with energy, attending to her with smothering devotion, drinking in her every feature as if she were the most magical thing in the world, as if he had discovered her anew. In fact he was the one who was concerned about the road instead of Red, constantly asking her if her feet were tired or if she wanted him to carry her. He was like an eager puppy dog ready to please his master. He made her feel special and loved again.

There was one slight problem though, one thing that had to be dealt with before she would feel their relationship was healed again. She still had to tell him about that kiss she almost gave Colin. It wasn't that she was hiding it from him, she argued defensively. She had just been very tired the previous night, they had all been through a trying ordeal and had a lot to think about, and she felt they needed privacy when she admitted the truth. Plus, she had a sense that Wolf too was still concealing something, something that embarrassed and ashamed him.

But despite this she knew that all would be well. As Virginia walked silently and contentedly along the narrow road between increasingly barren fields bordered by stone walls and broken only occasionally by a stand of oak trees or brush, she found the scenery did not bore or depress her. Nothing could. She believed in herself now, in Wolf, in their quest. And it was all thanks to her mother and the May Queen. Apologetically she thanked the nature spirit, running her hand over her belly thoughtfully. She didn't know when she and Wolf would get the chance to talk, or what awaited them in the Sixth Kingdom, or how the quest would be completed, but she had every confidence it would all happen as destiny decreed. As long as they didn't run into any more obstacles in this madhouse that would delay them.

_So let's go now. Now, this minute, before we're turned into giant pigs, or trampled by goblins, or whatever's next in this madhouse. _Virginia smiled fondly. Those were Tony's words, spoken in the barn in Little Lamb Village just after Wolf had been arrested. She was sure he would have something similar to say were he here now.

An ache developed in her heart, and she had to bite back tears. Dad. How much she missed him. She hadn't realized how much she needed him until he was no longer around, and talking to Christine had only made the separation more acutely upsetting. It had been buried in the back of her mind by the demands of the quest and all the harrowing adventures they had faced, but now it filled her thoughts with unrelenting force.

She had seen him in the Spying mirror, frozen in Wendell's throne room, and had longed to stalk down there, face the Ice Queen right then and there, and free him. But that had been impossible then. She knew the only way to save Tony, to be able to hug him again, to see that rumpled, earnest face, to be able to give him her mother's message, was to find the dragon.

Virginia's jaw clenched, and she gripped her rucksack straps tighter. She swore anew, with every fiber of her body, that she would do that, and bring him back, and put an end to the Ice Queen's reign.

For the next several hours the company continued uneventfully along the road, following its curves and bends as they picked their way northwestward. Early on they encountered a few lonely travelers—farmers' wagons going to market, young men heading to Incarnadine to seek their fortunes, old women gathering twigs for fires. Never did anyone come from behind them to follow the same path as they, and those they passed gave them looks ranging from incredulous to hostile to imploringly entreating.

It did not take Virginia long to guess that no one ever went toward the Sixth Kingdom willingly, and that the travelers were not so subtly warning them of the danger ahead. None ever spoke, either warded away by the expressions of determination and purpose the company wore or not altruistic enough to go out of their way to help what seemed blatant fools to them, and so they passed in silence.

Eventually there were no more travelers, and they had the road entirely to themselves. Around noon they passed through the last village, only a small cluster of mud-and-wattle shacks populated by incredibly poor peasants with scrawny, malnourished children and mangy dogs scrounging in the dirt. Virginia offered what food they could spare, receiving only distrustful glares in return, then joined the others in guiltily eating their midday meal. Afterward, the land became even more dusty, lifeless, and ruined, scattered with stones and the stubble of long-dead fields. She wondered why this area was so destitute, if it were only the vicinity of the Sixth Kingdom's magic or if perhaps the depredations of the dragon were responsible. Not a pleasant thought.

Suddenly, as she gazed ahead, she saw something that made her groan. An ominous front of black clouds hovered at the edge of the horizon, rearing high into the sky and showing no signs of dissipating or turning aside. And here she had thought the rain was finally over, and the warm, relaxing sunshine had been here to stay. She frowned, however, as she realized the clouds were not moving, neither roiling and building as anvil-shaped thunderheads were wont to do, nor carried toward them on the wind. And they hovered far too close to the ground to be normal clouds.

As they drew closer, Virginia became more and more uncomfortable and disconcerted. The "clouds" now seemed to be rising directly from the earth, as if smoke billowing up from a fiery furnace. But there were no flames, and still no movement, and now she could see arching vegetation, like intertwined branches forming an impenetrable wall. Stunned, she turned to Wolf for confirmation.

"Yes, Virginia," he said without her having to ask. His voice was quiet and dull, lacking in the exuberance and emotion he had so recently recovered. "That is the border of the Sixth Kingdom."

Swallowing, she looked ahead, fixing her eyes on the barrier. The closer they drew, the larger and more daunting it became, and the details that appeared consistently filled her with dread. The vegetation was not only branches, but brambles, thorns, a colossal thicket of spikes and woody vines completely blocking their path. Higher and higher it soared, twenty, thirty, fifty feet, towering above the landscape with all the permanence, inevitability, and arrogance of a granite cliff, its thorns coated and dripping with a steaming, foul liquid she knew had to be poison.

The branches wound and twisted so thickly she could not easily discern where one ended and the next began, their thorns extending both sideways and downwards to spear the earth and block all forward progress, leaving only darkness beyond and below. And they extended as far as she could see along the border, as well as in a vast blanket across the land.

Finally, after slowly approaching the monstrous brambles with fear and awe, increasingly dwarfed and overshadowed, the four of them came to a stop before the edge of the barrier. Virginia tried to peer into the gloom but could see very little—thorns as massive as tree trunks, bare earth, the vague remains of an ancient roadway, slanted stones and broken walls that could have been the ruins of long-forgotten structures—a borderwatch gatehouse for customs officials and travelers, perhaps? Nothing seemed to grow there, not even lichen, except for the brambles of course.

"Well." She paused awkwardly and looked at the others. "Looks like we made it. Now how do we get in?"

Red Riding Hood made a noise, somewhere between a snort and a laugh.

Wolf was studying the unyielding facade of the thorns, his expression one of a person seeing for the first time something they had heard of only in stories and legends, and who now saw it far surpassed the tales. There was also a healthy amount of resignation and despair. "I...I don't know, my little dumpling. I hadn't thought this far ahead...I didn't even think we would make it this far."

Virginia elbowed him. "Thanks for the vote of confidence!" Shaking her head, she too examined the brambles, but she could not help agreeing silently with his assessment.

Nowhere could she see even the tiniest aperture; the brambles and vines were interwoven so impenetrably that not even a mouse could find its way in. The vegetation almost seemed to be strangling its own life away, although it was hard to tell if it was even alive, the woody branches being completely leafless, dry, rough-barked, and the ground from which they sprang was as cracked and infertile as the hardpans of Africa.

Yet somehow she knew they did live...she could hear a faint hissing emanating from within the forest, as if it breathed and panted with terrifying malignancy, as if vibrant sentience flooded every plant fiber and magic sustained the tremendous root systems—dangerous magic and vindictive life that longed to kill and destroy. And there was no opening anywhere, not one. It was possible of course that one might exist somewhere along the miles and miles of thorns, but she did not believe it, and even if it did, there was no telling how long it would take them to traverse the border and find it. And they didn't have the time for that.

She was about to step forward and start testing the pliability and cooperation of the brambles, however risky that might be, when a hand reached out and caught her arm. Turning, she was surprised to see it was the Piper. "No, milady. Let me. I...I have been pondering and reflecting on the very enigma before us ever since last night, and I have concluded that I should be the one to make the attempt. The magic within my pipe is extremely powerful and versatile, and it dates from the Golden Age. If any enchantment can separate this entanglement, it is this pipe, and no other spell is available to us. Before any of us dares to use brute force to enter and chance the danger of touching such venomous growth, I will draw upon my repertoire of tunes and hope it contains one that shall aid us."

Caught off guard, Virginia could only nod in acquiescence. Wolf shook his head in disbelief at Colin's impertinence, then shrugged. "Be our guest, Princey."

Heaving a great sigh, the Piper flexed his fingers and rolled his shoulders in preparation for what he most likely felt would be the greatest performance of his life. Virginia could not help rolling her eyes, yet at the same time she waited with bated breath, hoping fervently that the answer lay in music to soothe the savagery of this untamed forest of brambles. The Piper, finally relaxed to his satisfaction, plucked his pipe from the satchel he never let out of his sight and lifted the instrument to his lips. There was a pause, as he selected a song and gathered his breath. Then he began to play.

It started as a single sustained note, soft at first but gradually increasing in loudness. Soon the sound made the ground tremble and the thorns quiver. It made Virginia want to cover her ears and block out the noise. But before she could do so, the note cut off abruptly, leaving only stillness—and the now uneven, shaky breathing of the forest. She looked at Colin, saw a gleam of guile and craftiness slip into his azure eyes, and then he played again.

The music rose and fell in cadent time, picking up speed as it raced up and down the scale. Faster it went, until she could barely keep track of the prince's fingers as they flickered over the pipe's holes. It shifted from one mood to another, lilting and cajoling one moment, like a child coaxing a kitten, then fierce and commanding the next, like a wrathful deity chastising his worshippers. Despite the fact that the notes remained as high and liquid as ever, there was a subtle shift in their tone and quality, a dark and sinister coercion that would not be denied.

Breaking free of her stunned paralysis, Virginia turned toward the thorns as she heard a sudden cracking—and her jaw dropped. The brambles were trembling, shaking visibly, trying to resist the call, and the breathing of their unnatural life had become stentorian, groaning, undeniably pained. Yet just as when she herself had been summoned by the pipe, the music was unrelenting, refusing to be ignored...and slowly, before her astonished eyes, the thorns were parting!

Emboldened by this success, the Piper threw every ounce of will into his song. Virginia found herself glancing back and forth between his perspiring brow, the ever-brightening argent glow of the pipe, and the stretching, snapping, bending branches of the thorns as they drew farther apart, quivering with every foot of movement but wrenching apart despite their obvious desire to remain closed. On and on the arpeggios climbed, the notes whirling in furious rhythm, punctuated every now and then by a shrill blast that made Wolf whimper and cover his ears, whining. Each such note made the vegetation keen and draw back anew.

Finally, after ten minutes of unceasing music, the Piper stopped, ending on a low, unwavering note that held a resolute and implacable strength. Slowly, very slowly, Colin lowered the pipe, letting the note play on, as the instrument shone with a silvery incandescence so brilliant it hid the pipe completely and could not be looked at safely for more than a few seconds. "There...I think...that should do it..." he whispered, both in weariness and in awe.

That was an understatement. Where the impenetrable wall of thorns had been, the vegetation now lay shoved up and to the side as by a giant's fist, curved and shaped into a great arch, more than large enough for all of them to pass through—large enough, in fact, for an entire entourage of coaches, horses, footmen, and honor guard. The breathing had shifted to a heavy, ferocious growl, as of a predatory cat ready to pounce, yet clearly unable to do so. Darkness cloaked the faint roadway, which ran as far as she could see into the undergrowth.

Heart pounding, Virginia swiveled slowly to look at Wolf. All traces of skepticism and contempt were gone, replaced by shock and excitement. Their eyes met, and at once the same thought raced between them. Back in the Disenchanted Forest, over a week ago, he had told her that the prince who could restore the Sixth Kingdom had to possess a unique talent, a gift that no other had which could win the way through to the castle. No one could deny that the Piper had a unique skill...and it had just conquered the spell of the thorns, opening the way into the slumbering kingdom and making a path that could lead to Sleeping Beauty's palace. Could he be the prince meant to free her?

"Well?" Colin's somewhat anguished and annoyed voice interrupted their reverie. "Are we going in or aren't we? I'm not certain how much longer I can hold this..."

Red Riding Hood, who stood immobile on his other side with a mixture of fear and intense admiration on her face, swallowed and then peered uncertainly into the shadows within and beyond the arch. "You...you mean you truly still intend to enter this perilous kingdom?"

Virginia sighed and nodded. "I'm afraid we have to, Your Majesty. It's the only place we can find a dragon to stop the Ice Queen."

Carmine eyed her dubiously, but the resolve in Virginia's eyes must have convinced her, for she lowered her gaze and bit her lip.

Despite the fact that she shared Red Riding Hood's fears, Virginia took Wolf's hand, gave him another glance, and stepped forward across the threshold. The Piper followed, gently guiding the queen in front of him. Once they were deep within the thorny growth and had reached the first bend in the roadway, Colin turned back and sounded another long, low note, slightly higher than the first.

With a moaning cry and the cracking of ancient wood, the brambles that formed the arch collapsed, springing back into place and rapidly intertwining once more. The broken branches did not return neatly to their previous position, some hanging by strips of wood, others stabbing into the deep furrows that had humped upwards in the soil. But soon a close approximation of the barrier had reasserted itself, and the forest heaved and sighed like a marathon runner in his final lap.

They were now sealed in the Sixth Kingdom.

* * *

All the rest of that day they traveled, and for Virginia it was a very strange experience. She was used to there always being some form of wildlife, some form of vegetation, but aside from the massive thorns and the occasional underbrush, nothing lived in the barren wastes of the Sixth Kingdom, and the only animals she saw were rooks, perched on distant arching brambles, cawing their annoying, raucous cries and wheeling against the ashen sky like vultures waiting to devour the dead. They made her shiver.

The thorns continued to intertwine and clog the land all around them, but there was just enough room for the road to pass, offering a fairly unobstructed course onward. It was impossible to tell what the land had been used for prior to the casting of the spell, whether it had been farmland, forest, or moor. The only clues were the ruins that continued to loom and jut out of the choking brambles—lone houses, clusters of buildings that might once have been a village, broken towers that might have been outposts or the castles of minor lords.

All was quiet, abandoned, dead, filled only by the whispers of the wind and the groaning of creaking timbers, the settling of stone. It made Virginia feel as if she had entered a graveyard, a kingdom that had become a gigantic catacomb for the forgotten generations. In a way her thought was right, for this was a literal cemetery, a "sleeping place".

As the day passed slowly, Wolf led them along the roadway, picking their route with a confidence that belied the fact that he had never been in this region before. The few times he spoke to them, in a hushed whisper that seemed appropriate for their surroundings, he noted that it was best to follow the road for several reasons. Not only would it be foolish to leave what might be the only safe part of the Kingdom and search for a path through the thorns—thereby exhausting the Piper and his pipe—but this road most likely led, as all others did, to the center of the land, where Queen Rapunzel's castle stood.

It was only there, Wolf insisted, that they would possibly be able to find anyone who had not yet been put to sleep and who might know where the dragon's den might be. And if everyone slept, the castle was still the best place to steer toward, for rising as it did from the highest point around, it would offer a view of the coast, the most likely place for a dragon's den to be.

Finally, even if they could neither see nor learn anything there, all roads led to and away from the castle, so it was best to travel where they could find another road which could conceivably carry them to their destination.

His arguments were sound, logical, and valid, and convinced everyone—not that much convincing was needed, since none of them dared to venture off the path—but Virginia was certain there was something else motivating his choice. She knew him, better than she had ever known anyone else, and she could tell by the way he flicked his eyes as he spoke that he was concealing something. And she even had a good notion what it was, for it matched her own thinking.

The best reason to go to Sleeping Beauty's castle was because, after seeing the Piper open the way through the thorns with his enchanted music, Wolf most certainly believed he was the one to wake the slumbering maiden and end the curse. And if that happened, Colin would find true love...and would leave their company.

Virginia smirked. Wolf was so transparent. She knew he was grateful—if grudgingly so—to the Piper for using his pipe in the rescue at Incarnadine and now to create the entrance into the Sixth Kingdom, but she also knew that he still could not stand the man and would be extremely relieved when they could find a legitimate reason to leave him behind. The possibility that he might find the love he sought made Wolf determined to bring the Piper to the castle, but only out of a selfish need rather than an altruistic one.

So for the entire day they traveled, proceeding along a rutted road that at one time looked to have been very broad and well-kept, and had likely been covered with moss judging by its humped, sunken shape. Now and then the thorns blocked the way forward, but the Piper always managed to grind them apart with his irresistible music, and so they continued on with only slight delays until sunset. At this point Wolf called a halt. "It is far too dangerous to travel here at night...that is when the beasts come out to prey," he informed them. "In any case, it should only take another day to reach the castle, it isn't far."

Red Riding Hood was only too grateful to accept the reprieve, groaning softly as she settled on the ground in as dignified a manner as she could muster, curling her legs beneath her and to the side so she could rest her aching feet. The Piper joined her, wearied as well by his constant use of the magic, cradling the queen protectively against his chest as they leaned back against the crumbling remnants of an ancient garden wall.

Virginia went to gather wood (without much hope of success) and was surprised to discover a great deal of dry kindling and bark that had broken or peeled off of the thorns over the decades, all of it quite flammable. By the time she returned and placed the firewood in a convenient sunken pool that had gone dry long ago, the sun had vanished beyond the brambles at the western horizon, plunging them into obscuring night, and Wolf had opened their provisions for the meal.

The fire Wolf started with his flint was cheery and quite welcome, for even under the thorns the heat of the day soon dissipated, leaving the air chilly and making the companions draw together for warmth. Shadows lengthened and grew around them, disturbing and malignant, seeming as alive as the rest of the bramble forest, and the ever-present breathing always hovered in the background, reminding them all that a hostile and distrustful force permeated this land. The four thus drew together for protection as well as warmth.

Virginia nibbled absently on a chunk of peasant bread and a slice of cheese as she kept her arm around Wolf and watched the others. Red Riding Hood no longer seemed so disapproving and haughty about the fare she was required to eat, although she did make a slight face when the Piper handed her a water flask from which they had all taken draughts. Colin looked after her needs with all the care and gentleness of a manservant, and made no complaints despite the fact that he had previously shown little inclination to step below his station in life. They were all changing, she realized. Hopefully for the better. So much had passed between them that this change was inevitable.

Which reminded her—now was the perfect opportunity to find privacy with Wolf and explain to him the source of the change in herself, and determine what had changed in him. However uncomfortable it made her, she had to tell him what had happened in her cell back at the palace. She turned to Wolf, stroked his cheek. "Wolf..."

Just as she was on the verge of telling all, another voice interrupted her. "Lady Virginia."

Virginia closed her eyes, cursing under her breath, and turned. It was, of course, Red Riding Hood.

The queen no longer lay against Colin's chest, but instead leaned back against the weathered stone that still bore the twisted dead grapevines of the ruined garden. The expression on her face was a surprising one—embarrassment, regret, and shame. Her eyes flicked to the slice of cured meat she held gingerly in her fingers, then to the ground.

"I...first of all, I wished to apologize, to all of you, for the things that I said in my throne room." Her words came slowly, haltingly.

"I was...out of line. You were correct, Lady Virginia, I was speaking out of fear and denial, I did not wish to believe that the Ice Queen could be seeking at last to conquer the Kingdoms. But now...seeing you here, braving the unknown threats of the Sixth Kingdom when you have no logical reason to do so, I can see that you must be telling the truth concerning your quest. Therefore, I apologize for delaying you, and if there is anything I can do to assist you in finding this...dragon, then tell me and I shall do it."

Virginia blinked. She had never expected such contrition from Carmine, let alone such a complete reversal in her mindset. At once she began revising her opinion of the queen. Prejudiced and recalcitrant she might be, but she was not immune to change, and she was still an intelligent, observant woman. It relieved her to finally be making some headway, and by her actions rather than her words. Still, she had to question her timing, seeing as she had interfered in a very important discussion.

"That is...very kind of you, Your Majesty," Virginia said, choosing her words carefully. She could tell how hard it had been for the proud ruler to admit her mistake, and she did not want to jeopardize this newfound detente by smugly declaring her own vindication; saying "I told you so" would do no one any good. Clearly the hedge maze had had a profound effect on Carmine as well. "I can't really think of anything you can do right now, unless there's any way you might guess where the dragon could be. But if we think of anything, we'll let you know."

Red Riding Hood nodded, then raised her eyes to meet Virginia and Wolf's. She let her shoulders slump, and the Piper brushed her hair back with a comforting hand. "Fair enough. There is...something else as well."

"And what's that, Your Majesty?" Wolf asked in a neutral tone of voice. Ever since the maze Virginia noticed he had been far less angry and spiteful toward her, but old habits died hard and he was not willing yet to grant her respect and trust, and with good reason.

The queen gathered herself and then raised her chin imperiously. "Thanks to the May Queen, I was...rather forcibly shown the error of my ways, at least in one respect. As a result, I have...decided to at least consider your request for a pardon." She held up a hand to forestall any exclamations, although all of them did gasp in shock. "I can promise nothing, only that I will listen to your words. I have realized that if I expect to be a queen who is accorded deference and loyalty, I must be fair, even to those I might otherwise reject out of hand. So...what I wish for you to do is...prove to me that wolves are capable of love. That Duncan did love my sister, and that you, Wolf, love Virginia. Do that, and the pardon is yours."

Beside her Virginia heard Wolf let out a strangled "Cripes!" and swallow hard, but she ignored him. This was a crucial moment after all; her talk with Wolf would have to wait a little longer, for the future of the Kingdoms now lay at stake. Biting her lip, she met the queen's gaze. While the auburn-haired woman's frame trembled, and the set of her jaw matched the emotions in her eyes, she could tell Carmine truly meant what she said. If they could convince her, she would be true to her word. She began to tremble herself. Now, if only she could find the right words to say. But what had not already been said?

Pondering, she cudgeled her brain until finally she concluded there was only one option left. If Red could not be swayed by simple rhetoric, then events and actions and examples would have to do. Slowly, carefully, she began to speak, relating the most pertinent parts of the original quest in the Fourth Kingdom, focusing on those instances that may have been glossed over in most tale-tellings, those that reflected best on Wolf.

She described how he had tossed away the Troll King's shoes, saving her from the addiction. How he had placed his neck on the block—literally—to procure from the Woodsman the magic axe that could end the Gypsy curse. How he had rescued her time and again, particularly from the Deadly Swamp. How he had resisted the Evil Queen's will, when so many others had not, all for the sake of keeping her from harm. How he had been the instrument of the Huntsman's death. And finally how, by the use of deceit and guile, he had fooled the Queen, switched Troll dust for poison to spare the coronation guests, and enabled her to defeat the Queen.

"I know that last choice sounds dishonorable and cruel," Virginia finished. "But that is only on the surface. In truth, Wolf is the most honorable and loving man I have ever met." She flicked her eyes aside to watch him fidget and squirm in embarrassment. "What he did in Wendell's palace...it was a selfless and courageous act. He did it out of love for me, true, but also out of love for his Kingdom. He could have simply come and freed me while the Queen was busy at the ball and then led me out of the castle. He could have disregarded all the danger to the lands, fled with me to some distant place, and made a life with me. But he didn't. He stayed to fight.

"And when he did fight, he proved he was willing to risk his life for me. The Queen had offered to make him chief of her Secret Police. But he turned that down for me too. He lied to me to fool her, knowing full well what I would think of him, that he might lose my trust and love. But he took that risk too, because he knew that if he preserved our love by running away from the confrontation, I would never respect him and he would never respect himself. And then what would our love have been worth?"

She paused significantly, her words measured and confident. "He risked everything that was dear to him, all for people who had hated and despised his kind, and all for me when I might very well have rejected him before I learned the truth, as I had in Kissing Town. If that's not true love, I don't know what is."

When she was finished, Virginia reached out and took Wolf's hand, feeling a deep, abiding warmth throb and pulse in her heart, growing stronger as she met his emerald gaze. After a long, searching moment of communion, she glanced down at their linked hands and giggled in spite of herself as she saw the singing ring's magical pearl twirling and pirouetting atop its band, shining brighter than she had ever seen it as its delicate face beamed up at them in adoration.

At last she looked back to Red Riding Hood and was amazed by the flow of emotions on the queen's face—astonishment, doubt, distrust, disbelief, worry, guilt, and finally a slow, reluctant understanding as her azure eyes filled with awe and sentimental yearning for something she could never have.

"Once I could not have believed your words, Virginia," she said quietly. "Once I would have been so blind I could not have seen the truth...that if Wolf were as selfish, wicked, and savage as I thought, he would never have risked his own life for you, or turned down a chance to gain power and glory, or cared what happened to the monarchs of the Kingdoms...including myself."

Carmine paused, her eyelashes lowered as she kept her gaze focused on the campfire's crackling flames. "But that was before the May Queen interceded on your behalf...and brought to me a visitation that completely undermined everything I had clung to."

Even as Virginia wondered with a burning curiosity who could have managed to open Carmine's eyes, the queen continued, lifting her line of sight to meet theirs. "Still...I am not convinced Wolf is lacking in vices. And he is only half-wolf, after all. If he were a full wolf...like his father..."

Somewhere in the darkness an owl hooted, the only animal sound they had heard since entering the brambles, and they all started. Gazing up through the branches, Virginia could see the moon, still on its way to crescent, sailing across the sky, with tattered clouds racing across it now and then to cast ambiguous shadows on the world below. After a moment, she returned her stare to Red Riding Hood, frowning darkly. So the change was not complete, as she had known it could not be. No one could forego their prejudices and hatreds so easily. Carmine was willing to suspend a little disbelief in Wolf's case, but only a little, and none for wolves in general. But even this was more than she had ever hoped for.

Before she could even hazard a reply, Wolf growled softly. Turning, she saw he had moved back slightly, crouching on the balls of his feet as he fixed his implacable eyes on her from beneath his thick eyebrows. In the light of the moon she could see signs of Wolf's torture at the hands of the palace guards—bruises on his face, the still-healing split in his lip where the garrison commander had punched him, the welts and scrapes on his wrists from the manacles that had suspended him in his cell. She knew Wolf had not forgotten these injuries any more than Red had forgotten her previous mindset. She tensed.

Yet when he replied, it was not as vindictive and threatening as she had feared. "So...you think real wolves can't love? Well, let me tell you a little story from when I was a cub. You be the judge." He leaned forward and clenched his teeth. "I was alone at home with Cerise. My aunt, uncle, and cousins had all gone to market, and my father was out working in the fields. A man knocked at our door, an itinerant huckster peddling his wares—pots and pans, baskets and tools, that sort of thing.

"My mother felt we had all we needed and turned him away. But he was drunk and would not take no for an answer. He grew angry and abusive, calling her all sorts of names. He forced his way inside, and when she struck him with a fireplace poker, he attacked her. He threw her down, held her shoulders to the floor, and then yelled that she would pay for what she had done. Then he started undoing his breeches."

"No!" Carmine gasped in horror.

"Oh yes! I didn't know what he planned to do at the time, of course, but I knew he was trying to hurt my mother. So I leaped on his back and started biting his neck. But he knocked me into the kitchen table, stunning me. He had her dress torn open and was working on her slip when a frightening, feral snarl came from the doorway. It was my father." Wolf's eyes flashed as he grinned smugly.

Virginia had been listening, entranced by the shocking tale, feeling as helpless and furious as if she had actually been there in the farmhouse, witnessing it. Now she grinned in spite of herself, clenching her fists in anticipation of the well-deserved punishment Duncan would mete out. Red Riding Hood, too, hung on Wolf's every word, her expression torn between triumph and dismay, vengeance and regret.

"You can imagine what happened next. Duncan beat that peddler within an inch of his life. By the time he was through with him, that peddler wouldn't dare unbuckle his belt. And he was never seen in our village again." Wolf smirked, chuckling, but then he grew serious. "But, if you will notice, Auntie, my father didn't kill him. A wolf, a savage wolf, actually refrained from murdering a human, and one who had assaulted his mate, no less." He curled his lip sarcastically.

Red Riding Hood had the grace to look ashamed. For a long time she only sat perfectly still, her throat tensing and trembling. Virginia was certain that the queen must be thinking of how close her sister had come to being raped—and the fact that only a wolf had prevented it was what likely brought the pain and anguish to Carmine's azure eyes. But when she found her voice and replied in a hoarse tone, the words still made Virginia bristle. "That is indeed...most unexpected. But do not ask me to believe that Duncan never killed anyone at all in his life. I would not believe such a lie."

Virginia was on the verge of springing to her feet and leaping on Carmine, her oath to Snow White and her mother notwithstanding, but the Piper intervened, giving her a warning glare, and then before she could retort an answer, Wolf rose to the challenge.

"No," he snapped, rising and circling the campfire, his silhouette blocking out the moonlight so that the angles and planes of his face lay in shadow. "No, I would never ask you to believe something so impossible. And you're right, my father did kill someone. Only once, as far as I know, but he did. Would you like to know who it was?" His eyes flared golden as he scratched vehemently at his temple.

The queen sniffed disdainfully. "Some poor innocent milkmaid, no doubt—or a not-so-innocent serving wench." She seemed to have recovered from the revelation of Cerise's long-ago trauma, and now sat with all the dignity of a judge on his bench.

Wolf snarled and shook his head. "Not by the hairs on the Three Little Pigs' chins! It was my grandfather Darren, the son of Old Grey himself."

Carmine looked as if she'd been stabbed in the stomach. "What? No!"

"Yes! It happened not long after Duncan rescued Cerise from the palace where you imprisoned her, when Darren found out just who his son's mate was, who it was he'd been protecting." Wolf proceeded then to lay out the story, the same tragic series of events that he had explained on the road to Incarnadine. Having heard it before, Virginia tuned out his words, focusing instead on Red Riding Hood. The monarch was listening with mounting horror as the vicious battle was described to her, blow by blow—and some other emotion was surging in her eyes as well, a growing sense of denial. Somehow, she knew what was coming, what had been the impetus to this confrontation.

But Wolf was merciless, bearing down with the full brunt of his advantage. He described in glowing detail the slashing of claws, the baring of gleaming fangs, the spilling of rich red blood to soak fur and clothes, the reckless ripping and tearing as the two wolves had pounced on one another and tumbled across the floor of his aunt Celia's cabin. And then he stopped, letting the horror sink in, before he continued in a soft, almost lyrical tone that was somehow even more chilling.

"Duncan fought well, severing his father's jugular. And as Darren lay dying on the hearth, he could only listen weakly while his son repeated the words with which he had begun the struggle. 'You will never harm my mate,' my father said. 'Not while I live. I love her with all my heart, and I won't let you kill her, or take her back to Incarnadine. She belongs where she is happy...with me. And together we will end the feud that you are so set on prolonging. The feud dies with you.'" Wolf trailed off, shuddering as if it had been he who had stood there uttering those fateful words.

"It wasn't until later that he felt shame and remorse for what he had done. But when he did...those feelings of guilt haunted him until the day he died. The day you burned him. The day you burned a wolf who only wanted to end the hatred and suffering, a wolf who saved your sister's life and took the life of your mother's attacker."

Each successive word made Carmine flinch, the vindication echoing in the hollow that had once been a lady's fine garden, until she seemed to deflate, to shrink before Virginia's eyes into a frail and uncertain little girl. Her eyes darted about, as if seeking a rock to crawl under. But there was no escape.

"I...I..." She swallowed. "I had no idea. I...never heard of such a thing happening. Wolves showing regret for a killing? Wolves not being proud of their assertions of dominance? But if Darren's death were something to celebrate, word of it would have spread across the Kingdom and I would have heard...the fact that it was kept a secret suggests it was indeed a sinful thing..."

Red Riding Hood seemed to be talking more to herself now, as if her conscience and vindictive nature were at war. "And if that is true, you would not say such a terrible thing had happened unless it truly had...but that would mean..." A light dawned in her eyes, the light of knowledge coupled with blinding pain.

"Yes, Auntie," Wolf said—matter-of-factly, not maliciously. "It means you've been wrong all these years."

Red Riding Hood blanched, shaking her head rapidly. "No! No, that cannot be! I cannot be wrong...I cannot..." She began to cry, softly and pitifully, as she covered her face with her hands.

Watching the tears trickle out between Carmine's fingers, Virginia was extremely confused. The words were the same stubborn ones as ever, but there was something different about them this time. They were not the arrogant words of a haughty and hateful woman. They were the words of a person who was mentally incapable of facing an unpleasant truth...and unless she misunderstood the tone of Red's voice, and the emotion in her eyes when she uncovered them, what prevented her from accepting this truth was...fear. Sheer, abject terror. But what could be the source? Everyone was wrong at least once in their lives—it was not a reason to be paralyzed by fear.

"Your Majesty," Virginia said at last. Carmine trembled. "I know it must be hard for a woman as proud as you to admit you were wrong, but no one is perfect, not even a queen. It's not the end of the world. Really it's not."

Red Riding Hood glared at her as if she had just said the most insensitive thing imaginable. "You don't understand...none of you do, or ever will. It would be useless to explain."

Even more curious, and feeling on the edge of a breakthrough, Virginia ignored the obvious dismissal and pressed harder. "Try. What harm could it do? We might surprise you."

A dark fury burned then in Carmine's eyes, but rather than lashing out with insults and insinuations, the queen only turned away, facing out into the enshrouding darkness of the bramble forest. "Leave me alone, Lady Virginia. Just...leave me alone. You have given me much to think about, much that troubles me. I cannot give you an answer now. I may never be able to. You should consider yourself lucky that I even made this much of a concession. We...we shall converse more on the morrow, and see what we shall see." She paused. "But whatever may come...I was not wrong. I could not be wrong."

Something very strange filled Virginia's heart at that moment, something she would never have thought herself capable of feeling—sympathy, sympathy for Red Riding Hood III. Despite all this woman had said and done, despite her continued refusal to unbend, Virginia could sense something very human and vulnerable about the queen. Of what haunted Carmine now, she had no inkling.

But she wanted to know. Not only for the sake of Wolf and his kind, but because this was another thinking, feeling person across the campfire, one who was hurting and needed understanding. Once more she tried to discern the nature of the queen's emotional barrier, but it was beyond her—and she feared it might be as impenetrable and unyielding as the thorns at the border had been.

Seeing she could make no further headway this night, she sighed and sat back in a blue funk. Wolf, on the other hand, was clearly not willing to let this go, but as he stepped toward his aunt, she looked up at him, and the ravaged expression on her face gave him pause. Then the Piper shook his head, maneuvering himself in front of Wolf. Wolf looked stunned at his boldness, but backed down with a scratch at his temple and one last growl.

As he came back to Virginia's side, she reached out to catch his elbow. "It's all right, Wolf. I think you really got to her. We have plenty of time to keep working on her before we reach the dragon. She'll come around."

But he only muttered, "I'm glad you think so, Virginia. Because I don't know what else I can say to change her mind."

They were all silent after that, going through the motions of preparing for sleep. Red Riding Hood did nothing at all to assist, wringing her hands over and over as she crouched beside the fire, like some fairy tale version of Lady MacBeth, and Virginia guessed that characterization was not far off the mark. What thoughts were going through Carmine's mind? she wondered as she banked the fire and laid out Wolf's coat to sleep on. She was not sure she wanted to know, now.

But if the terror in the face of damnation that Carmine contemplated were any indication, perhaps she resembled Lady MacBeth more than was healthy. Perhaps that, she realized in shock, was the source of Red Riding Hood's fear. She was afraid admitting she was wrong would condemn her to death for her crimes! Virginia resolved to keep a close eye on their hostage from here on out, just in case she got it into her head to remove the choice from their hands and society's by taking her own life.

As she curled up on Wolf's chest and settled down at last, Virginia glanced over at Carmine. The woman remained sitting upright, staring as if entranced by the undulating flames consuming everything she had believed in the crucible of the sunken pool, but when the Piper touched her shoulder, she finally moved, woodenly wrapping herself in her riding cloak and leaning against the prince's side.

She moved as if she were a mirage, on the verge of fading away entirely. Her position was almost fetal. Even as she closed her eyes and fell asleep, the queen's face was pinched with distress and her cheeks were stained with tears. Virginia was willing to bet her dreams would be no comfort, no more than a criminal's dreams the night before being led to the gallows.

* * *

Virginia awoke abruptly from a deep and much-needed sleep, only the second such night of relaxing slumber since she and Wolf had left the Fourth Kingdom...and as she lay there, she had no idea why she wasn't still asleep.

For the next ten minutes she remained frozen against Wolf, listening intently for any out-of-the-ordinary noise. But other than the sound of the brambles moaning and sighing in the wind, all was calm and at peace. No night birds flapped their wings, no wolves howled, no unseen beasts roared or crunched through the thorns. Above she could see the moon well past its zenith, even closer now to the crescent, its horns growing ever sharper and deadlier. Despite its pale light the shadows were immense and deep beneath the branches that screened it, and the midnight vault of the sky twinkled with only a few inconsequential stars.

Slowly turning her head, she half-sat up, making sure not to disturb Wolf, and gazed around. The fire had devoured most of its fuel and now burned low and untended, and the garden was illuminated by only tiny tendrils of flame and sooty orange embers. The moonlight spilled down through the intertwined canopy, bathing the shattered walls and barren earth in rippling shimmers. Across the clearing she could see Red Riding Hood and the Piper, still embracing and asleep. But she did not look at them for more than a few moments, her sight was focused on the sinister blackness beyond.

Something was out there. She could feel it.

Narrowing her eyes, she tried to discern anything, but nothing appeared. She could hear nothing, see nothing, but still she knew something was there. Her eyes began to play tricks on her, and she could not tell whether the looming shadows she saw were twisted brambles or silent figures watching implacably. She could not tell if the moaning of the wind in unseen ruins might actually be the call of some feral creature. She could not tell if the ragged silhouettes vaguely visible among the thorns were dead or dying vegetation, or foreboding symbols of ancient spells.

"Stop it, Virginia," she muttered. "This isn't _The Blair Witch Project!"_

Yet she could not shake that frightening feeling.

In the midst of this, she finally discovered what it was that had really awoken her—she had to answer a call of nature, _now._ She chuckled softly, relieved to have something so normal and almost reassuring to focus on. Why was it, she wondered, that heroes and heroines never had to do that in fairy tales or fantasy adventures? Reality struck again.

Carefully, with slow movements, Virginia disengaged from Wolf and tottered to her feet. Looking down, she smiled gently at his relaxed features, wiped clean of the pain and torment and worry that so plagued him when awake. He looked so peaceful, so happy, so...innocent. For a moment she could see the incredible cuteness he must have suffered from as a boy.

Her stomach cramped again, and she sighed before turning and picking her way across the campsite to find a place of privacy among the undergrowth.

She found a suitable spot at the base of a thick bramble, but it took her ten minutes to do the deed, since it was rather awkward to squat and get her pants down when eight months pregnant. By the time she had finished and used the bramble to work herself upright again, she was panting and sweating and very embarrassed. "Well, there was a grand moment for the annals of fairy tale history!" she laughed in spite of herself.

She was on her way back to the campsite when she heard the sound.

At first Virginia thought it might be thunder, the rumble was so low and deep and distant. But then she felt herself sway and knew that whatever was making the sound, it was shaking the ground! Turning toward the west, she peered into the thorns, trying to see what the source might be, but there was nothing visible in the impenetrable blackness. A wind was rising, making the brambles shake and stir, blocking her line of sight and drowning out the rumbles, but then something else came to her, borne on the currents of air—a stench.

There was no other word she could use to describe it. It was worse than a cesspool filled with sewage, a mixture of rank sweat, musk, and other bodily fluids she didn't want to imagine, with a healthy dose of rotten food, garbage, and offal. It seemed to hover before her in a miasma, a palpable thing. And somehow it got worse with each passing second.

Slowly she began to back away, icy fear skittering up and down her spine. She never should have come out here alone, no matter what her need for privacy and no matter how much she'd wanted to let Wolf sleep. There was danger out here, and she was completely unprotected.

Not looking where she was going, she tripped on a hump of earth and almost fell, catching herself just in time against one of the brambles. Then she almost fell again, but this time it was because of the quaking beneath her feet. The rumbles were so loud now she could hear them over the wind, and they were easily identified, being too rhythmic and plodding to be thunder. They were footsteps, booming footsteps of some massive creature. And it was coming her way.

Finally throwing caution to the wind, she turned and ran headlong through the thorns, hurdling gullies and dry streambeds with a recklessness and abandon most unusual for an expectant mother, but at the moment she was more worried about the danger her baby faced from whatever was approaching than from the landscape. Every now and then she glanced back furtively to track the beast's progress. At first she could see nothing, but then she began to notice that the brambles and treetops were tossing and weaving—in fact they were toppling!

Before her widened eyes the thorns and trunks crumbled, collapsing to the ground as something enormous shoved its way through, heedless of the poisoned brambles. And she could even see it now, a hulking brute with matted hair and bulging, knotted muscles looming against the sky, a dark silhouette barely outlined by the moonlight. It was taller even than the brambles, and showed no signs of slowing down or turning aside. Even at this distance she could hear its heaving breaths, and the odor was nearly overpowering.

Looking ahead, she bit her lip, wondering if it were just the terror of the chase or if she had actually gone farther than she had intended in her quest for a shelter in which to relieve herself, for it seemed to be taking forever to find her way back. But finally she could see the faint light of the campfire, and in a few moments she burst back into the fallow garden where the others were sleeping. "Wolf!"

He woke up at once, scrambling to his feet and crouching threateningly, ready to pounce. "Virginia? What's wrong?" His eyes blazed golden in the darkness, filled with suspicion, anger, and an almost insane bloodlust.

"Wolf...there's...a big...a huge..._thing_ out there!" Virginia couldn't speak between her fear and lack of breath. "And it's coming this way!"

Sniffing the air, Wolf snarled fearsomely. "Ogre! I smell ogre!"

"Ogre?" Oh great. Just great. Ogres were like giants, they ate humans!

But Wolf was ignoring her, having hurried to Colin. "Piper-boy, wake up, wake up!" The prince was groggy and not really paying attention, but Red Riding Hood sat up immediately. She trembled as she stared at the path of destruction forming through the thorns. Then she grabbed the Piper's shoulder and hauled him bodily to his feet, shoving him along after Wolf, who was gesturing wildly as he ran. "Virginia!"

She realized she'd been standing there frozen like an idiot and dashed after them. Together the four pounded pell-mell through the brambles, dodging back and forth between the branches, until they emerged back on the broad, open road. As they turned back toward the still distant castle, she understood that there would be no intertwined brambles for the Piper to unweave with his magic, so they could run unhindered, following a clear path to safety.

A clear path the ogre, in turn, could follow to them.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, the ogre burst through a vast wall of thorns onto the road and bellowed incoherently. He was colossal, nearly a hundred feet tall and immensely built, with shoulders and chest like a granite mountain and legs and arms like aged redwood trunks. He wore only ragged, stained breeches, a leather vest, and a horrifying scowl. And as soon as he saw them, the ogre flexed his hamhands and leaped after them on dirty, gnarled feet.

Virginia whirled and saw that the Piper and Carmine were many yards ahead, not having paused as she and Wolf had, and the prince had his arm around the queen, guiding and supporting her along the rutted, sunken road. Moonlight streamed along the earth, illuminating the way as Virginia ran, holding one hand protectively over her stomach. She could barely stay upright under the assault of earthquakes, which only grew more pronounced and frequent as the ogre gained on them. He was massive and lumbering, moving very slowly, but on their scale, with his incredible strides, that was enough to allow him to catch up with ease.

And then it happened. As another onslaught of rumbling waves washed over them, the road humped up and Wolf tripped, sprawling heavily on his face. Shrieking his name, Virginia slid to a stop and leaned down to help her mate up, but just as she dragged him free of the developing cleft, the ogre was upon them. Blocking out the moon and stars, the creature bent down, his toenails digging into the soil to halt his progress as he swung one huge fist. Wolf was thrown aside...and then the ogre smiled down at her, his lips parting like a fissure, steaming meat-flavored breath blowing out like a sulfurous fumarole.

He reached down toward her, and if she had thought his smell was bad before, she could barely stand it now—so strong and revolting it made her eyes water. Closer and closer his grotesquely ugly face leaned, eyes like full moons, crooked teeth festooned with gobs of meat, and bulbous nose dripping and wet with mucous. A neck so thick and short it could barely be seen...arms so slow and heavy, packed with powerful muscles so large and hard, that they exploded with the pattern of cords covering them under the thick skin and black, crisp hair. One fist opened, revealing bark-like calluses and yellowed, jagged nails with huge furrows of dirt and dried blood under them, and then it lunged at her, catching her in its sweaty grip.

Virginia screamed.


	13. Twelve: Pride and Prejudice

**Twelve**: Pride and Prejudice

Wolf rolled over and over across the ground, growling and snarling impotently, until he landed solidly against a bramble. Ignoring the pain that flamed up his back, he whirled and flipped effortlessly to his feet, baring his fangs at the ogre. The odor was so appalling and sickening at this close range, to his keen wolf nose, that he almost passed out, but he had no time to adjust or even grab a handkerchief to cover his nostrils. That despicable, nasty creature had his dreamy, creamy Virginia!

Bounding forward, he leapt at once onto the back of the ogre's hand before he could even lift it more than a few feet. His claws and teeth ripped at the horny, wart-covered skin, wildly trying to draw blood, inflict pain, anything to make the beast drop her. But it seemed impervious. The ogre grunted in surprise, looked down at him with something akin to the contempt Wolf would have for a flea, and then shook his hand violently, even as he kept a firm hold on his prize.

He tried to hold on, he really did, and he even reached out to clasp his mate's flailing hand, but after five minutes of this awful treatment, his hands loosened and he went flying, sailing through the air and crashing into a massive bramble. Luckily for him it was standing deadwood and shattered to pieces without permanently damaging him, but he did have a long way to fall to the ground—and he landed with one ankle turned awkwardly underneath him. He howled in pain.

By the time he was able to latch onto a protruding branch and haul himself to his feet, whimpering and dashing away tears, the ogre was already tramping and stomping down the road, very proud of himself if the set of his shoulders was any indication and tunelessly humming an ogre stew-song. He was nearly all the way back to the place he had crashed through onto the road—and he still had Virginia with him.

Wolf watched until the beast was out of sight, then howled and slammed his fist recklessly into the thorny trunk beside him. He was still pounding away when Carmine and the Piper arrived to stand and watch helplessly, horrified expressions on their faces. "Wolf!" Colin cried at last, snatching at his shoulder. "That won't help! We have to go after her!"

He snarled and took a swipe at the prince. It felt very good to give in to that desire, just as it felt good to see the look of fear it prompted. "No, _really?_ Give the princey a medal for stating the obvious! I thought we'd just let her get all nice and cooked and ready to eat! How's that sound to you, huh?" He couldn't begin to express the anger he felt—even if he had to admit it was meant more for the ogre and for himself—and so he degenerated almost immediately into all sorts of wolfie curses, some so vile they made his companions blanch.

The Piper recovered his wits after a few moments and grabbed Wolf again, his expression hard and firm. "Forgive me, all I thought to do was offer my aid in helping rescue the fair damsel. Perish the thought!"

Red Riding Hood nodded as well. "Indeed! We simply cannot let her be...be...eaten!" She shuddered in revulsion.

Wolf stared at them, so overwhelmed by his anger and disbelief that he couldn't speak. What were they thinking? Did they truly imagine he'd ever ask for help from them? He was no gullible shepherdess; he knew exactly what they were like inside. Just because he had sworn off revenge on Red and promised to try and see things from her point of view didn't mean he trusted her. And just because the Piper had saved them before didn't mean he'd let him help now. What use would he be against an ogre anyway? Or Red for that matter?

"We?" he managed to snarl at last. "We? I don't think so. I'm going to rescue Virginia, and I'll do it alone!" He turned to stalk after the ogre—and howled in agony, collapsing on one knee as his ankle gave way.

"I see." Colin crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow suggestively. "Yes, you seem quite able to do it on your own." Sighing, he came to Wolf's side and offered a hand.

"I'm just fine!" Wolf snapped. "Never better! Just help me up and get me back to camp." It galled him to depend on Colin for anything, but at the moment he really had no other choice. Hopefully his sprain would heal enough in time for him to head after Virginia. If not, he would have to grit his teeth and bear it like a good wolf.

Between the two of them, Red and the Piper managed to support Wolf as he limped back the way they had come. When they at last reached the garden, they discovered a gigantic footprint where the campfire had been, the flames doused, the wood crushed, and all of their food smashed into the dirt, but luckily the pack had escaped unscathed.

As Wolf knelt beside it and rummaged inside for the Troll King's shoes, the Piper eyed him skeptically. "You still plan to do this by yourself?"

Glaring up at the prince, Wolf growled. "Let me see if I can explain this to you, Piper-boy. Virginia is _my_ mate, not yours. It's up to me to save her, not anybody else, and I'm not going to let you or Red interfere. I don't need you, I never have, and if you'll just stay out of my way, I'll go and fetch her and everyone'll be satisfied. Understand?"

Staring in disbelief, Colin and Carmine returned equally dumbfounded looks, and then the Piper managed to snap a reply. "Perfectly. So what are we supposed to do in the meantime?"

"You stay here and guard Red, that's what." Wolf sniffed dismissively and rose, carrying the shoes in his hands. Nerving himself, he moved as quickly as he could to the edge of the clearing, putting only the barest of weights on his injured ankle. Hissing softly, he paused at the start of the brambles to look back and make sure that his companions weren't following him. Thankfully they weren't; Red had sat down on the garden wall, and the Piper stood watching in a mixture of admiration and frustration. Wolf pointed at the queen. "Watch her now. Don't worry yourself too much. Wouldn't want anyone thinking you're a sheep. I'll be back soon."

Before he could hear whatever insulted words Colin could muster, Wolf turned and headed off on the ogre's trail.

His keen wolf nose picked up the scent easily, although he knew he'd be able to smell it even if he were only a normal human rather than an enhanced one. And in any case, there was a clear path to follow, made up of gargantuan prints and the wreckage of brambles and thorns ripped apart by the creature's passage. You didn't have to be a Huntsman to follow this trail. Wolf winced at the unpleasant memories that thought brought up—knives, crossbows, cold pale eyes with no remorse or mercy—and returned to contemplating the shattered brambles, only to find himself hard-pressed not to imagine the ogre bashing his way through the barrier with the hand that held his beloved Virginia.

He made very slow progress thanks to his ankle, half-hopping along the path, and he knew this was only the start of his troubles, since his injury would hamper him in any confrontation with the ogre. Not that a full frontal assault was in the works, he'd seen how effective _that_ had been. But what would he try instead? For the first time he began to regret his impulsive nature. He'd gone off half-cocked, with only a vague plan in his mind—no, correction, with no plan at all in mind. He had simply been determined that it would be he this time who would save Virginia, not the Piper. And however well-intentioned that oath had been, it wasn't going to miraculously effect a rescue.

Wolf whined pitifully. His father had always warned him not to be so impetuous, but it was how he was made. _I cannot help what I am! I just had to rescue Virginia myself, I just had to!_ But how? Finding the lair would be no problem, it could not be far. Sneaking in would be as easy as huffing and puffing thanks to the shoes. But the ogre was so strong, so humongous, there was no way he could defeat it single-handedly. Perhaps he should have accepted the Piper's offer. But no, his pipe could not control a beast so dumb and relentless. And the ogre had magic of his own, if the stories were true. He could transform himself into anything. Only another creature of magic could contend with him...

Something clicked momentarily in his fevered mind. "Of course!" he cried aloud, excited by the prospect. "Why didn't I think of it before? The dragon! He can help me, he can fight the ogre, he can—" He broke off, his spirits sinking as his mood swung to despair. "But oh _no!_ I don't know where he is! I could never find him in time, not if I want to save Virginia from the pot..." He tore at his hair and gnashed his teeth. That wasn't even the worst obstacle. He knew with a terrible certainty that the dragon would most likely listen to no one but Virginia herself, if even her.

Maybe the ogre would be distracted and he could get his precious sweetheart out without him being the wiser.

"Oh, huff-puff!" Wolf scratched rapidly at his temple.

For the next half hour he limped as fast as he dared along a path littered with broken limbs and churned earth, circling around and between the immense footprints and losing valuable time as he did so. All the while, as he pursued the ogre, sustained only by his love for Virginia and his faltering hope that some brilliantly clever plan would present itself before the confrontation, Wolf tried to increase his speed gradually, testing the limits of his injury. To his relief, at least one thing started going right—the throbbing pain was fading, and as time passed it became manageable, then barely noticeable. By the time he began to hear the pounding strides of the ogre again, his ankle barely twinged. Still, he knew that it would not be a good idea to overexert the joint or do any fancy footwork.

Ahead, through the trees and thorns, he could see the land rising sharply into a rugged, barren hillside, almost a small mountain shrugging its way through the canopy, creating a stark outline against the starlit sky. Twisting and winding along the crumbling face was a massive ledge, fully wide enough to allow the passage of a giant, and halfway to the summit was a cave opening. Inside a fire had to be burning, for a hellish crimson glow flickered and danced on the inner walls. And a gigantic silhouette blocked out a patch of the light, a silhouette that matched precisely the humped, muscled shape of the ogre. Even from here he could hear the creature's brutish voice, laughing and muttering indecipherably.

Suddenly angry all over again, Wolf narrowed his eyes, clenched his fists, and emerged from the trees in grim purpose.

Very slowly he crept—to soothe his ankle, to avoid any unfortunate noises, and to give himself time to think and cudgel his brain for a plan—until he found himself just outside the cave, whose mouth yawned as broadly as a canyon. He was grateful for the light within, as otherwise entering would have made him feel he were descending into the throat of—well, of a dragon! Running his hand through his hair and licking his lips nervously, he nudged around the corner and peered inside.

The cave, despite its height and width, was not really very large, extending back for perhaps twenty feet, and the ogre's bulk added to its cramped appearance, but the undulating flames made the walls seem somehow translucent, ephemeral and permeable, as if it were larger than it seemed. The ogre himself sat crouched upon a great boulder, gazing down unwaveringly and possessively at something between his widely spread legs as he picked at his rotten, blackened teeth with what looked like a femur.

Other bones were scattered around the lair, Wolf now saw—human, mostly, but some were Dwarven, easily identified by their stature, while others still had the remnants of Elven wings attached to the shoulderblades or the misshapen, blocky skulls of Trolls. There were even, he saw with surprise, a few skeletons with the overly-long tailbones that marked them as wolves. Many of the bones were very old, dusty, and dry, while others still had juicy strips of meat clinging to them, and pieces of rusted armor and weaponry lay scattered amongst them. Beyond the ogre, at the back of the cave, was a huge iron cauldron set upon the cooking fire. Steam rose from its depths, and the smells emanating from it were fetid and rank, only adding to the insufferable stench that filled the cave at these close quarters.

Between the ogre's legs, trapped within a wooden cage, was Virginia.

Even as he cursed the ill fortune that had befallen them—he could not very well traipse in there and whisk his mate away directly under the ogre's ugly snout, even while invisible, now could he?—Wolf was assessing the situation more rationally. The cage was composed of roughly stripped logs lashed together with what looked like sinew, very knobby and twisted and looking quite unbreakable.

There was no door or any opening at all except for those between the bars, no lock to pick, and the floor beneath it was solid stone, so he could not dig his way in to Virginia, even had he the time and tools. It rather looked as if the ogre had simply plunked the entire cage down over his poor little sausage—no, he mustn't think of her as something to devour, especially at a time like this!

It was clear this rescue was not going to be as easy as he had hoped, and he hadn't even thought it was that easy to begin with. Once again he realized he should have accepted the Piper and Red's help. At the very least they could have provided a distraction. Now he was all alone, and there was no time to go back for the others, not when the stew was obviously about to start boiling. He had to do something now, himself.

But what?

As he considered and tossed aside possibilities, Wolf slipped into the cave on silent feet. Closer and closer he drew, more and more details becoming clearer—the enormity of the ogre's massive body; his gnarled bare legs covered with hair, dusty and filthy as no other part of him; his fleshy chapped lips parted in a gruesome grin beneath his mop of sweaty black hair; the saliva drooling from his mouth to pool before the cage; Virginia's stricken and nauseated expression as she gazed upwards.

Then, when he was only a few feet away from the awful scene, the ogre did something that made Wolf's heart leap in excitement—he rose to his feet. "Meaty she, wait for me," he growled in a voice only a Trolline could love, grating and rumbling as if he gargled on razors and rocks. "Stir pot, get hot. Then you simmer for me dinner." Chuckling at his joke, the beast turned and stomped back to the fire, grabbing a long metal ladle and using it to churn and mix the brew, displaying a shocking indifference to the heat that would surely start to fill the implement in his leathery hand.

Wolf knew an advantage when he saw it. Stopping only to put on the magic shoes, he entered the concealment of invisibility—and gained the element of surprise. Hurrying to the cage, but careful not to scrape the bejeweled leather of the shoes on the rock, he knelt beside Virginia and debated a moment before he whispered, barely audible at all.

"Virginia?"

She started, but had the presence of mind not to cry out. "Wolf? Is that you?"

He nodded, realized she couldn't see him, then said, "Yes, of course. Did you think I'd let you go unrescued, my darling damsel in distress?" He chuckled.

"Nevermind that, Wolf! Just get me out of here! He's going to...to...eat me!" She glanced fearfully over her shoulder toward the pot, and he could see her visibly tremble.

She didn't have to ask him twice. "Is there any way you know of to get you out?" he hissed as he half-rose and began running his hands over the heavy wooden bars.

Virginia shook her head. "No. You just have to lift it."

If he hadn't been invisible, he would have given her a very annoyed and put-upon look. Easier said than done! Did she think he was a musclebound wolf? He was much stronger than ordinary men, but he wasn't _that_ strong. The cage was made out of tree trunks, he saw now, and had to weigh at least three hundred pounds. Still, he knew he had to attempt it. Perhaps, with a little assistance from her...

Looking back surreptitiously over his shoulder at the busily stirring and humming ogre, who still had his back turned, he turned his back to the cage, bent his knees, and half-knelt so he could get his fingers under the logs lashed to the bottom edge. He felt Virginia press up against him, mimicking his position, and then he tensed his muscles, gritted his teeth, and pulled.

At first nothing happened except for the cage and Virginia vanishing into invisibility, which did not help him judge his success, and all he felt was the veins standing out on his forehead the way they did when he tried to resist the Change, while sweat broke out all over his body. Then slowly, very slowly, the cage shifted and began to move. He could hear Virginia try to quiet her whimpers as she too struggled, and between them the wooden barrier started to rise...one inch...two...four...he paused to gather his strength and take another deep breath...

It was at that moment, with the worst timing possible, that the magic shoes chose to give out.

The multicolored swirling lights of the vortex darted and skipped madly in the air around him, and he could not hold back his groan of defeat as his feet and legs appeared before his eyes. What had gone wrong? The shoes had had a decent rest since Incarnadine... Then he knew. How stupid could he have been? The cage had exhausted the magic, it was too large for the spell to mask. Jerking his head in the direction of the ogre, he saw his worst fears realized as the beast turned to stare suspiciously toward the front of the cave, alerted either by his groan or the sparking glitter of the shoes. Dropping the red-hot ladle with a clatter, he roared deafeningly. "No go! You steal me meal!"

Wolf let the cage drop in his fright, but luckily Virginia pulled her hands free in time as it slammed to the rocky floor. Vacillating frantically, he looked for a place to hide or a weapon to use, but there were no alcoves and none of the fallen swords and axes were near enough—not that they would do any good. He backed up as rapidly as possible, but the distance was too far and the ogre was already lumbering toward him, almost upon him, his great shadow and even greater stink preceding him.

"Oh, cripes!"

* * *

Carmine sat on the edge of the garden wall, stiff and intense, as she gazed after Wolf's retreating form. She waited until his limping shape disappeared into the cloaking darkness before she turned on the Piper. "I don't know why I even bothered to offer to help him!" she sniffed. "He is only a wolf, after all. I expect if we had accompanied him he would have given us to the ogre in exchange for Virginia."

Her words did not hold as much venom and hate as she would have liked, however, and not only because of the May Queen's power over her heart. So many different thoughts and feelings churned inside her, barely discernible to her frightened mind. And the fear she felt was not merely of the ogre—it was more insidious, looming, far-reaching.

It was the fear that she was wrong.

The Piper was crouched in the depression made by the ogre's stinking foot, distastefully holding up a flattened rucksack spilling breadcrumbs, strips of bacon, and squashed cheese all ground together—though how he could stand the smell there, she had no idea. He began picking through the remnants of the fire for salvageable wood as he looked up at her in annoyance. "That is not true, and you know it. He is a much more noble creature than you give him credit for. And he is much more human than many who claim to be so."

Angrily the queen crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him as he set to erecting and relighting the fire. When the warm crackling flames offered their comfort to the cold night, she reluctantly slid down from the wall and crouched down, holding her hands out for heat. Her breath fogged before her face as she struggled with her tortured thoughts.

There was more truth in what the Piper was saying than she cared to admit.

Many men would abandon their wives to an ogre in order to save their own skins; they would not dare to risk their own lives for anyone, even one they claimed to love, for the instinct to preserve themselves was too strong. But for Wolf...that instinct almost seemed to be absent, at least so far as Virginia was concerned. He would truly rather die than let any harm come to her.

Faced with a growing and undeniable possibility, she gazed once more into the darkness of the brambles where Wolf had vanished. "He really does love her, doesn't he?" She could not hide the amazement and incredulity in her voice. Eclipsed in her memory was the fervor and passion in the half-wolf's kisses and embraces in the center of what had been the hedge maze, and the expression on his face a few short moments ago as he insisted that Virginia was his mate and responsibility. It was not possessiveness, but devotion that had fueled him both times.

Colin looked up in surprise. "Of course he does." A shrewd look crossed his handsome young face, and then he added softly, "Just as Duncan truly loved your sister."

She flinched as if slapped. The words had been repeated to her over and over ever since Virginia and her companions had been brought to her palace in chains, but now, for the first time, they had the ring of truth. Because she could not deny any more what she saw in Wolf's eyes when he spoke of his mate, when he looked at her, when he even had a moment alone to himself and thought only of her. What she saw there was more pure and true and worthy of immortalization in bardic lays than any emotion she had ever seen in a human.

And if one wolf could feel such love, why not another? The stories Wolf had told of his father seemed to indicate as such, and the unthinkingly loyal need to protect that she had seen demonstrated on the hill above the May Queen's valley, when Wolf had begged Virginia to understand, matched precisely the acts Duncan had performed—saving Cerise, not only from a would-be rapist, but from his own father.

He had loved her. He had done everything for her, abandoned his pack and home, become an outlaw and fugitive, a hunted wolf, all to keep her safe and make her happy. And she had loved him for it. Who could not love a man so selfless? And if Duncan and Cerise had indeed loved each other...

The brambles and forest seemed to whirl around Carmine's head, and she let out an anguished moan as she wrenched at her limp, dirt-streaked auburn curls. She had twisted and evaded it for thirteen years, but she could do so no longer. Wolves could love—Wolf had proven it in the tales of his father, and he was living proof of it this very moment. And her grandmother had stressed how little she truly knew of wolves and their society. They were different, yes, but different did not have to be evil or immoral. Diversity existed throughout the Nine Kingdoms, with many creatures living in harmony that had completely contradictory beliefs and lifestyles. And while they did not necessarily like each other or indulge in cultural exchanges, they did respect each other for the most part.

Something she had refused to do when it came to the wolves. Because, she realized in shame, she had needed a target in life, something to place blame on so it could never be cast upon her. She claimed she did it to uphold the monarchy, to honor her grandmother, to prevent any more such tragedies. Yet in a naked confrontation of self, Red Riding Hood came face to face with the truth: she had no sense of consequence for her actions.

Weeping piteously, she turned away from the Piper and raked her fingernails through her hair, drawing blood. She knew now why this was so; she could not acknowledge responsibility because she feared it. She was insecure as a queen because of the relative newness of her royal house, but she was also insecure as a woman. All her life there had been no one to love her. Her grandmother and grandfather had died when she was young. Her father had been a distant, aloof man incapable of showing affection and withholding his praise except for in matters of state. Her mother had been focused only on molding her into the perfect queen. And her sister had left her for a beast.

But no. _No!_ That was not true, she saw it now. That was the true source of her pain and hatred, at least at first. The fact that Cerise had abandoned her, left her alone without anyone or anything but her cold throne and vain riches to keep her from going mad. But the truth was that, in a way, she had indeed gone mad. Mad from loneliness, and jealousy, and despair.

She had not seen that Cerise loved her deeply, and always would, and that at any time, had she had the strength and courage to lay down her enmity and make peace with the wolves, she could have come to visit her sister's home easily. She had not been shut out; she had shut herself out. And it had only made her insecurity grow, until she refused to admit she was ever wrong.

Because to admit that was to admit that the one person she could depend on to love her, to never leave her, herself...could not be trusted either. And if that were true, then she had no one else to lean on, and no reason to continue living. It was selfish and pathetic, but it was what she had made herself believe. No one would care about her but herself, so why should she listen to anyone but herself? Thus she would be absolved of any guilt in her actions, and as long as she remained inviolate in her sense of right and wrong, as long as she remained unchallenged, she could feel content and safe in her cocooned little world.

Carmine laughed bitterly. But the cocoon had split open, letting in the cruel and unforgiving light of day, and now she was expected to either flutter out and rise to the sun—or plummet on her torn wings to the ground far below. And she had no idea how to bear herself up. Now she knew she was wrong, she had had someone to love her and support her—Cerise. But Cerise was dead, and by her own hand. Everyone was right. _My sister is dead because of me!_ The horror of those words raced through her, and she wept a fresh storm of tears. She had never been alone, but now she truly was, and it was her own fault.

Looking up with a haggard weariness that made her entire body feel wrung out like a washerwoman's rag, she gazed at the Piper morosely. In his eyes she could see reflected the shock, sympathy, and understanding as he realized what she was going through and reached out to her in spirit. Once again she realized she was wrong; she was not alone now either, for she had Colin. He was a fellow royal, but more importantly, a friend. One who surely knew of the struggle with guilt, considering his heritage.

"It can't be true," she protested weakly, clinging one last time to her old prejudices and the stability they brought.

To his credit the Piper neither rolled his eyes nor yelled at her in fury for her stubborn obtuseness. He had never treated her that way, she realized now. He treated her like a person. He treated her so now, as he simply asked softly, "Why not, Your Majesty?"

Suddenly the burden of the conversation was thrust back onto her. But she knew that was where it belonged, this was her battle. Shuddering, she wrapped her cloak tighter and shook her head. "Don't you see? This cannot be true, it cannot be that they loved each other...for if they did, then that means not only was I wrong all these years, I...I am exactly what Virginia, and Wolf, and all the wolves of my kingdom have called me for so long. I am a murderess, a bloodthirsty tyrant, and I...I deserve to be stoned, or hanged, or executed, or at the very least removed from my throne. And I cannot bear that, knowing that I had failed my people and my sister, and all of my family's expectations...then perhaps death would indeed be a blessing, to end the pain and guilt."

There. She had said it. The pomp and grandeur, the glory and might of the House of Red, had been stripped away, leaving her with nothing, not even her pride. All that remained to her was her newly-found sense of responsibility...that if she truly were guilty of so much, she must pay for her crimes.

Carmine sniffled and wiped at her nose with a lacey handkerchief, aware of the irony, that even now at her lowest of lows she had the fine trappings of power to grace her person...when she did not deserve it. Yet as she looked at her companion, she found an anger and contempt in him she had never seen there before. It shocked her.

"How dare you say such things!" His words were soft, yet they were still a rebuke. "How dare you turn your back on your people, and your family, to wallow in self-pity! You speak of expectations, of responsibilities, yet you flee from them as much as you ever have, you race ahead like the rats my great-grandfather summoned with his pipe!" He sighed and worked to regain his composure. For a few minutes the only sound was the whining of the wind, as if the world too wailed at her arrogance.

Finally the Piper looked up again. "You make too many assumptions, that is your problem, Your Majesty. Your world-view is far too limited, too narrow in scope. Everything is black and white to you. One moment you are absolutely right, and there is no room for argument against you; you are above everyone else, determined that wolves are mere beasts who deserve to die for what they have done to your family. The next minute you are completely wrong, demeaned and forsaken, worthless and uncouth, bemoaning your fate and certain you must die to atone for your sins. But you do not need to switch from pole to pole this way!" Impassioned by his cause, Colin slid across the ground to her side and clasped her hands tightly. His were very warm and reassuring. "And the first step to keep from doing so is acknowledging where your guilt lies...and where it does not."

"What do you mean?" Carmine felt as if she had once again ingested Troll dust as she had at Wendell's coronation...she was light-headed and weak, weary, ready to collapse. Once again the Piper's insights had hit far too close to home. She had indeed been slipping into the same old habits, taking it all upon herself to decide the way things should be viewed. It mattered not that now she was acting out of utter self-denial in order to punish herself; she was still making decisions that were not up to her.

"To begin with, I rather think your family and subjects will be more disappointed in you if you abandon them and give up on life, or resign yourself to some terrible death, than if you admit you were wrong." Colin fixed her with eyes of agates until she looked away in embarrassment. "Second of all, you are assuming that you are responsible for Cerise's death, as Wolf and Virginia have claimed. I have never believed that, and I feel it is wrong for you to take the blame. Everyone in this venture is so set upon assigning blame. But no one is at fault."

He held up a hand to forestall her automatic protest. "I am not denying that you have made terrible errors and sins. You did engineer the false charges and unlawful burning of Duncan, as well as many other crimes against wolves in general. And for this you must be held accountable. Yet while you set in motion the chain of events leading to your sister's death, did you choose it for her? No. What have you always said? That she chose her death. And you are absolutely right."

He paused deliberately, letting his words sink in. Carmine stared at him in disbelief. "You may have created, or at least fostered, the circumstances that made her feel that was her only choice, but it was still hers to make. And she did it willingly, because she truly loved Duncan. You must accept her death, and you must do all in your power to make amends for it, but do not steal away the dignity and sacrifice of her choice and make it a part of your sins. No one is to blame for this noble act."

Dazed and confused, the queen sat back against the still cold stone wall, trying to wrap her mind around this concept. She had not been raised to believe it, she had been taught that there was always someone to blame, someone to punish, someone to reject. On top of this was the unequivocal proof that Cerise's love, which she had belittled, had been genuine and eternal, the sort meant to last Happy Ever After. And she had destroyed it. It was far too much to take.

Yet the Piper had not finished; although his touch on her hands was gentle, the fire in his eyes was like an alpine sky over searingly white snow, cold enough to burn. "Your final mistake, Your Majesty, is one I have already touched on. You seem convinced that you must be severely punished for your misdeeds, that you must die, or suffer, or be imprisoned. But none of that need be necessary. It is true that the Council of the Nine Kingdoms, once it learns of the true nature of past events, may be inclined to take action against you. But have you not considered that they, and the wolves, and all of your detractors, may feel differently if you first take action yourself? All you need do is make amends. And you know exactly how to do it."

Carmine could sense that her face had gone as pale as chalk, she could feel the blood rushing out of it. Indeed, she knew what he asked, that she not only pardon Wolf, but change her policy toward wolves altogether, wiping the laws of persecution from the books and ending the prejudice and cruelty toward wolves in her kingdom. Logically she knew it was the right choice, especially if she wanted to spare herself punishment. But emotionally...although she felt hope at this alternative to death, she was not certain she could bring herself to do it, or what the fallout would be.

"I..." She licked dry lips. How long had they been conversing? Wolf and Virginia had still not returned, and before long it would be dawn, with none of them having gotten any sleep. No wonder she was so tired.

And she was also dodging the truth again. "I do not know...if I can do what you ask, your Highness. It will be painfully difficult, for me and for my subjects. The change will not happen overnight, and I am not certain it can happen at all. It may be that the Kingdom will reject it, and I will lose respect, prestige, power...even my throne or my life."

"That may be," the Piper conceded. "But still you must try. Your duty as a moral being impels you...and if you do not do this, if you refuse to change, then you will indeed face great punishment from all sides. The wolves' vengeance, diplomatic outcries, your people's sufferings...and worst of all you shall be cold, static, immutable. Like the Ice Queen. Do you wish that?"

"No!" she cried at once, vehemently. She would never allow herself to be compared to the Witch of Winter.

"Then you know what you must do. You know what you must decide." Colin settled back and gazed at her unblinkingly.

Before that gaze she trembled, still fighting her conscience and her own self-pity. The urge to run, to simply get away from him, was incredibly strong, but not only was that impossible due to the magic of his pipe, it was wrong. She could not lose her only friend, not now...and even if she could flee him, she could not flee his words, they would pound and throb inside her skull, overwhelming her as they were buttressed by her own doubts and understanding. Yet at the same time Carmine knew that she could not stay here.

Between her need to atone and her fear of admitting she was wrong, she knew she did not belong here. When Wolf and Virginia returned, she could not face them, knowing they had been right all along—she could not face herself. The pain and horror of what she had done was too great. And realistically, what could she do here? What use would she be against the dragon, or the Ice Queen? No, a better place for her would be Incarnadine. A place to rule, a place to alter laws and affect change. A place to hide and nurse her grieving heart until she was ready to face the world again.

If that were even possible, now.

Slowly Red Riding Hood lifted her tear-streaked face from her palms, and once more her chin and jaw were clenched as hard as iron, adamantine of purpose and unswerving of vision. She rose to her feet and stared down at Colin, confident in herself at least for the moment.

"I have indeed decided," she said. "I have decided that I must escape from this place at once. And you, Piper, are going to help me do it. _Now."_

_

* * *

_Stumbling back with hands upraised to ward off attack, Wolf tried to fight the sense of panic as the ogre barreled toward him with hairy hands outstretched. At the last possible second he acted on instinct alone, ducking the grasping digits and slipping adroitly between the wide-spread legs, dashing back across the cave. Roaring, the ogre struggled to follow, but his enormous body was far too bulky to change direction so rapidly, and with a grunt of pain he slammed into the wall. Rock dust and crumbling pebbles rained down from the ceiling.

Thinking fast, Wolf concealed himself in the mountains of bones, working himself back toward the entrance, but the ogre had by now recovered, leaping to cut off all access to the ledge. Grinning monstrously, the beast strode slowly and deliberately toward the remains of his past victims. Trying to keep his breathing inaudible, Wolf began backing through the rows of skeletons toward the cooking pot.

"Come out, come out, wolfie snout," the ogre taunted snidely. "Me no eat, no like doggy meat."

Nerving himself, he called back with more bravado than he felt. "Oh yeah? And why should I trust you?"

The ogre shrugged his broad shoulders. "Me no kill on dusty road when you jump on me like toad." As he spoke the beast stopped and began pawing and smashing aside the bones in a persistent rhythm, searching for the intruder.

_Like a toad?_ Wolf growled fiercely, insulted by this degrading of his pouncing skills. It took all his willpower not to rise up out of hiding and confront the ogre. Instead he balled his fists and tried to stay calm. "I'll have you know I can leap farther and faster than any toad!" he snapped proudly. "And you certainly did not go out of your way to keep from harming me..."

Taking another pace backward, he just missed stepping on a bone and tumbling to the ground. Scratching nervously at his sweating temple, he tried to maintain the conversation, occupying the ogre's mind while he furiously darted from one course of action to another. "So...if you're not going to eat me, what are you going to do?"

For a moment the ogre paused, frowning in puzzlement. The expression somehow made his face even more grotesque. After digging one nail in his flaring nostril as if the answer could be found there, his eyes lit up. "Me lock you up, keep in pup. Then me tummy sate with sweet, delicious mate."

Wolf froze, whimpering pitifully. It was not that he had any illusions about what the beast intended for Virginia, of course. It was simply that hearing her fate so cruelly and cavalierly announced made his blood run cold. But what else could he expect from a flesh-eating monster? "Oh _no,"_ he cried. "No no, that will never do! Surely you can eat something, or someone else. Like...like this young, lean prince I left back out there in the forest!" Somewhere behind him and to the right he heard Virginia's gasping protest, but he ignored her.

A deep, dark chuckle, like a rockslide crashing down a cliff, was his only answer at first. Then the ogre bashed aside another offending pile of bones. "Prefer me a tasty she."

Beginning to get desperate, Wolf started becoming careless as he dodged and twisted among the deathly remains, searching for a way out. He came upon a broken arm extending accusingly from a pile of rusted armor, a massive broadsword clutched in its ghastly hand. Grabbing the forearm, he quickly pried the cold, rigid fingers from the hilt and whirled back to face the sound of pursuit, brandishing his weapon menacingly. He had only the vaguest idea how to wield a sword, but it couldn't be that hard, now could it? Especially when all he had to do was wave it in the general direction of the ogre and he was bound to hit something.

"If it's a woman you're looking for, there's another one with the prince," he argued as persuasively as he could. "Very sweet and succulent, no question there! Firm fleshy limbs, soft belly, full and fresh in all the right places! Why, I've thought of eating her myself many times!" That was literally true, since the thought of devouring Red had crossed his mind more than once.

Of course it had never been more than just a thought, nothing he would act upon; he would not dare to do anything that would make his aunt seem desirable in any way, and of course now he had sworn to end his vendetta against her. But the ogre didn't know that, and at this point Wolf would do anything to save his gorgeous creampuff. Besides, if the ogre released Virginia so he could go back for the queen, they could all simply slip away to safety. Red would only get a scare at most.

For a long time there was no response, only an occasional groan of hunger and what sounded like a vast tongue licking immense lips. Apparently the ogre was tempted. But then a regretful sigh came. "Orrin like wolfie's help, but me want taste of she with whelp."

It took Wolf a moment to figure out Orrin must be the ogre's name, distracted as he was by the threat to his cub. He whimpered anew, his mind casting about for an escape from this predicament. It seemed there was something he ought to remember, something about Puss in Boots. How had that cat defeated his ogre?

Before he could recall it, the bones beside him suddenly exploded across the cave, and a huge dark shape leaped through the cascade, roaring in triumph. Wolf flung his arms up and hacked wildly at the ogre's wrist with his sword, but the flesh was far too tough and thick. He had barely managed to slash and slice a few thin cuts when the ogre snatched him from his feet, pinning down both arms. He struggled helplessly as the creature lifted him high, chortling in glee.

"Now me free to eat the she," he hissed, his breath billowing out like a noxious cloud. Wolf gagged as he was carried toward the back of the cave. What had this ogre been eating?

Eating! That was it!

Relaxing limply in the ogre's hand, Wolf looked up at him morosely. "Oh, very well. I suppose you may eat my mate." Again came Virginia's wordless, strangled cry. "But before you do, there is something I have always wanted to know about ogres."

"Huh?" Orrin grunted. "Tell me what it be."

Wolf grinned slyly and put on all his roguish charm, knowing he would only have one chance at this. "Is it really true that you can transform yourself into anything?"

The ogre rose to his full imposing height and pounded his chest—luckily with his other fist. "Story true, me tell you! Can change to beast, from great to least!"

Wolf had news for Orrin, he already was a beast. But he did not say this. "Well then, Orrin, I have a little proposition for you. A challenge to make things more interesting." He knew he had to tread carefully. This ogre seemed as dumb as his kind was reputed to be, but there were always exceptions, and it was possible he might know of the trick Puss in Boots had played.

Curious, the ogre scratched his greasy head as he moved back into the firelight. "Test best?" he asked carefully. A gleam of amusement filled his round eyes.

Nodding, Wolf pretended to ponder before allowing astonishment to flow across his face. "Yes! I was thinking, that perhaps if you and I were to have a race, we might make this more sporting. If I win, you let us go free...but if you win, you may eat me, as well as those I mentioned before. And you may choose whatever form you wish."

He held his breath. Orrin frowned disapprovingly at first, but as the thoughts slowly trickled through his brain, he began to smile eagerly. Clearly the idea was catching on. "Sound sweet, more meat. Me be so fast, you be..._dead_ last." The ogre laughed at his own joke as he set Wolf back down on the cave floor.

Wolf gulped as he threw his sword aside. He hoped that would not be the case, but he knew it could happen. All of this could backfire on him. The ogre could choose a form he could never devour, and then they'd be expected to race. He could never win, he could never even come close with the condition his ankle was in, so then his only hope would be letting the ogre far outdistance him so he and Virginia could backtrack and take a different route. But the ogre could still come after them...

It was too late now though. The ogre was already flexing his hamhands, getting himself into position. Behind Wolf, Virginia pressed herself against the cage bars and struggled to lift the barrier, to no avail. Seeing him looking, she wrung her hands worriedly. He smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner, then kicked off the magic shoes, turned, and crouched, shifting anxiously from one foot to the other.

Finally the ogre seemed ready. Grunting with the effort, he squeezed his eyes shut and tensed all of his phenomenal muscles, and then his body began to shimmer and ripple, glowing like the crescent moon. His massive form began to shrink and remold itself, slowly at first, then rapidly. In seconds the light faded and something small and fleet bounded to Wolf's side, springing about with incredible energy. A pink, twitching, whiskered nose angled up at him...dark, beady little eyes shone brightly...long, softly-furred ears plastered to the back of the head...powerfully muscled hind legs flexed and stiffened, bouncing the animal back and forth.

Wolf closed his eyes and howled inwardly, relief and glee and intense hunger flooding through him. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

He had never seen a more provocative, teasing jackrabbit in all of his life. It was far more enticing than even the rabbit Virginia had found for him in Little Lamb Village. His mouth watered uncontrollably, but luckily the transformed ogre didn't notice.

"All right!" he announced, turning back toward the cave entrance. Crouching even lower, he tensed his legs, rising on the balls of his feet. Beside him the Orrin-rabbit adopted a similar pose, fluffy tail wriggling to display its white underside. Oh, so very tempting! The ogre was undeniably stupid to flaunt his new form so flagrantly. "Get ready...get set...GO!"

The rabbit leaped forward. So did Wolf—but not toward the cave entrance. Lunging sideways, he ignored the pain flaming up his ankle and caught the lapine easily in both hands, in mid-leap. It fought him, of course, squealing shrilly, but his claws held it fast as he latched onto the neck and twisted. His fangs glinted in the light as he buried them in the rabbit's throat while it was still warm—the best time for a meal. Ravening, snarling, ripping and tearing, he sent the blood flying as he shredded the helplessly spasming body that had once been a living creature, feasting on the tender meat even while the hind legs continued kicking reflexively. He made short work of the chest and underbelly, moaning in rapture at the exquisite taste.

It took much less time than even he had expected, and soon he sat comfortable and satisfied on the stone floor, patting his belly as he finished stripping the final bones. Somewhere off to the side he could hear Virginia retching, but right now that didn't matter.

That had been the most delicious rabbit he'd ever eaten.

* * *

For several minutes the Piper sat in stunned silence, trying to deny what he had just heard. But his ears were not deceiving him. "What?" he spluttered at last. "You must be joking, Your Majesty!" He had hoped to change the queen's mind, alter her outlook, persuade her to admit she was wrong and adopt their point of view, but this...this was unbelievable!

"I assure you, your Highness, I am quite serious." Red Riding Hood III seemed oblivious to her rough and barren surroundings, standing as straight and tall as if she were in her glorious throne room in Incarnadine. No doubts or uncertainties marred her countenance; her face was an implacable mask, as if carved from alabaster. "You have succeeded beyond your wildest dreams. I freely admit now that I was wrong, that I must make amends for my misdeeds.

"But how shall I do so here? Only in my palace may I affect changes that will spare the wolves further suffering. Only there may I correct my policies and offer pardons and fair justice. Only there may I do what Wolf wishes, and assuage my conscience. Here I can do nothing. Here I am only a woman, a traveler, a prisoner and hostage. You do not need me here, I am of no use in appealing to the dragon or defeating the Ice Queen. You must let me go."

Colin, by now, was on the verge of panic. What she said made absolute sense, and he could not help agreeing with her. But it was sheer folly to support her in this endeavor and trust no backlash would come from it. Questing for an argument that might convince her, he clasped his hands desperately. "You know I cannot do that, Carmine! It is not my place, my decision! Wolf and Virginia would never forgive me were I to go behind their backs in this manner. Do you wish for me to become their prisoner as well, or to be abandoned here in the Sixth Kingdom? No, no, we must wait until they return, until we are sure all of us are safe from the ogre, until I may approach them with your petition. I am certain that once they hear how you have changed, they will be glad to let you go."

There now. With the literal truth he had offered cogent reasoning she could not ignore.

But the queen did not appear at all perturbed, worried, or sympathetic, tilting her head rather clinically. "You have a mind of your own, Piper. Just because Wolf and Virginia are heroes of the land does not mean you must defer to them in every situation. Make your own choices! Accept the consequences of your actions! You may be content to remain where you are and be guided by destiny, but I make my own. I always have. And I don't intend to stay locked into others' preconceived notions.

"How can I be a better person, as you insist I must, if I am trapped here? In any case, I do not believe Wolf or Virginia shall ever trust me, and thus if we depend on their approval for ending my sojourn with you, then it will never end. And this is likely to be the only chance you will have to be alone with me, to make the right decision on your own. You must do so now."

The Piper was floored anew by Carmine's rhetoric, faltering in the face of her adamancy. Truly, how could he be sure Virginia and Wolf would do the right thing? They were good people, and their hearts were in the right place, but they too had their prejudices and fears that influenced their thinking, especially Wolf. And they might feel they could not afford to trust her, to take the time to escort her back to the border of her kingdom.

Still, he knew they would never forgive him if he turned against them in this way, and their esteem mattered a great deal to him after the unfortunate manner of their meeting. "You may be correct, Queen Riding Hood, but I am upset you would make such moral judgments of me and my choices. I...I do grant you that it is appalling to continue this violation of your freedom in light of your new understanding.

"But have you been treated so terribly since our encounter with the May Queen? You still deserve, and are receiving, our respect. And from what I have ascertained, your destiny is tied to ours. Would you betray Snow White herself simply to abscond back to the comforts of your palace?" He added just the right touch of righteous indignation to his tone.

"It is true that you can effect change in the capital, and that it is wrong to put off any longer the balms that will heal the wounds within your lands. But surely a few days cannot make that significant a difference? Yet in our quest a few days do indeed tip the balance, for every day allows the Ice Queen to further cement her hold and entrap the other monarchs. And I think you unfairly dismiss your own contribution. How can you know what use you will or will not be?

"Any little thing might bring us the advantage we require. Please, Your Majesty, do not deprive us of what your intellect and insight might bequeath to us. I ask you this of my own will, not as some sycophantic adjunct of Lady Virginia and Wolf." Wringing his hands, the Piper rose and sat on a slate boulder at Red Riding Hood's feet, peering up hopefully. If she rejected this appeal, he knew not what else he could say.

For a moment she seemed to waver, and he smiled in spite of himself. But then the queen sighed and shook her head. When she spoke, it was without the imperious tone and demanding expression. It was once more the vulnerable and pleading woman whom he had come to know during the last few days. "Oh, Colin...I...I am glad you think so highly of me, even after all I have done. And it may well be that destiny has a plan for me...but you do not understand. I...I don't belong here. I simply cannot withstand another moment in this savage wilderness, I hear the clarion call of my throne, and I cannot resist.

"I know you wish me no harm...that as a fellow royal you deplore my plight, and think I have been punished enough. You speak of right and wrong, yet you know in your heart it is wrong to still restrain me against my will. It is wrong to prevent me from finally undoing the sins of the past. Wolf would want me to set at once to expunging the crimes of wolves from the records, rewriting the laws and treating his people with kindness. And for the first time...for the first time I wish to do so, or at least to try. I must do so, now, before I lose my nerve. Please, Colin, help me...use your pipe to free me from this enchanted land!" She caught hold of his hands and squeezed tightly.

Now it was the Piper's turn to waver. Carmine made a very valid and compelling point. It was entirely possible that with the passage of time her sense of guilt and purpose might fade, lose its impact, and then she would find some way to rationalize her actions anew, or to avoid making any concessions and changes. The chance was now, and he had to take it.

Yet his fear and worry held him fast. And something the queen had said had given him a new angle of attack. "I...I do understand. And I wish I could help you, but I cannot. It would be one thing if all I had to do was look the other way, or pretend I had fallen asleep.

"But as you have pointed out, I would have to use my pipe in an active role, leading you back to the border and disentangling the thorns for you. That is far too much to ask of me. And even assuming I did this for you, what then? What is to prevent you from sending soldiers after us, to hunt us down and imprison us again for our actions against you?" He crossed his arms brusquely over his chest. It was very difficult for him to voice such doubts, but it had to be said.

There was no guarantee that anything Carmine said was the truth; it could all be a cleverly devised ploy buttressed by a convincing acting job, and she might not have changed her mind at all. Or she might have, but considering how mercurial and unpredictable she was, she might change her mind yet again once returned safely to her own kingdom. There was no way to be certain.

His darting and frantic thoughts were interrupted by Red Riding Hood's furious response. "How dare you!" she hissed, rage etched into every line of her face. "How dare you insult me so! And here I thought you respected and cared for me. I should have known better, no one in this world does, or ever will!" She trembled with the force of her emotions. "Do you think me a traitor? Do you think I am untrustworthy, that my word means nothing? If you do as I ask, I promise you there shall be no retribution, no reprisals. I will do nothing but set my will to making amends, as you have so eloquently testified I must. Yet you seem to not believe in your own success with me. You have had the chance to undo the evils of your ancestor, but you will not allow me to do the same." A venomous, sarcastic sneer twisted her beautiful lips.

"It seems, rather, that you are only interested in my well-being and point of view as long as they coincide with your own. That now that you have made headway with me, you are content to leave matters as they are. That once you have ground my soul to bits and crushed my spirit until I agreed to do as you ask, there is no more need to pay attention to me. Well, that is something I will not accept! You have begun this, you and Virginia and Wolf, and now you will see it through to the bitter end!" Balling her fists, she gritted her teeth as tears streamed down her cheeks. "If you truly care for me, if you ever had any genuine feelings toward me, then you will do as I ask."

That was an incredibly low blow—lower still because it held a healthy dose of reality. Colin began to cry as well, his stomach twisting in knots. It was true he felt loyal to Virginia and Wolf...but he also felt loyal to Carmine. He did care for her...yet at the same time he had indeed thought the worst hurdle was now behind them. He would never have described his emotions as she had, he would never write her off simply because she had accepted the truth. But he did see the heartless way his actions could be viewed.

Even more apparent was how mistaken he had been to doubt the queen. The visceral and explosive reaction his words had provoked had not been feigned or concocted, it had been derived from true pain. And as he ran his thoughts back over all Red Riding Hood had said, he realized her actions now, while shocking and dubious when examined by a mind with a suspicious bent, made perfect sense. Originally she had clung to her hatreds and prejudices with the tenacity of a pit bull. Then when shown the error of her ways, she had done an about-face and plunged into the depths of despair over her sins.

This third permutation, this throwing of herself into the line of fire in order to atone for her past, was in keeping with her character, her powerful and unwavering adherence to whatever she currently believed. She meant what she said...and that being the case, how could he turn down this one request? He owed her at least this much...

She could sense he was weakening, for slowly the anger bled from her features, replaced by affection and understanding. Allowing herself to descend to his level, she fell to her knees before him and gripped his hands even tighter. "Please, Colin...please do this for me. I promise you will not regret it."

"Carmine...I..." Still his willpower, crumbling as it was, somehow maintained its steadfast refusal. "No...don't make me do this...I do care for you, but..."

Carefully she silenced him with one finger to his lips. Then she slid slowly and sensually up the rock, pressing herself onto his body as she brought her own lips to his. There was an achingly long pause, rife with meaning, as she pushed him back and ran her hands over his chest. Then she kissed him.

The queen's lips were soft, softer than anything he had ever touched or tasted, yet at the same time firm, pliable and full. Her skin was fragrant, suffused with warmth and some sweet, unidentifiable scent. Her hands roamed and caressed, eliciting sensations and emotions he could not escape, could not resist, so profound and startling in their power. He melted into her embrace, moaning as he went simultaneously hard and soft.

Just when the Piper thought he could stand no more, Red Riding Hood pulled back, breaking all contact except for her delectable lips, which lingered on his, tugging and stretching before finally letting go. She sat back, looking down at him with that small, mysterious smile he had seen on so many coquettish women in his court and heard described in tales of romance and ribald lust. Indeed, she seemed all woman to him now, so beautiful and desirable, not a queen at all. And while she was old enough to be his mother, that didn't seem to matter now. She was alluring, arousing, exciting. And he knew she was his for the taking, for anything he might wish.

"Well." Carmine's voice was husky, panting, amused and thoughtful. "Now I think you can see...how I care for you. So show me how you care for me, Colin. Do as I ask. Tell me you will help me escape."

Shivering, shuddering, the Piper gazed up at her expectant, hopeful face framed against the canopy of brambles and the cavernous sky, where stars twinkled delicately and the moon hung almost out of sight, one crescent point arching above the horizon. He gazed into her gorgeous azure eyes, the same hue as his own...and then, licking his lips, he gave her his answer...


	14. Thirteen: Gain and Loss

**Thirteen**: Gain and Loss

Wolf spent an inordinate amount of time cleaning up after his meal, seeing as he could not be certain when next he would have one as filling and satisfying. He knew Virginia was waiting on him, but now that the ogre was dead, he could take his time, and the rabbit bones called to him, begging him to strip away every chunk of flesh. But finally the entire animal was consumed, and he whined in pleasure, rubbing his stomach, before pushing himself to his feet.

As he looked to his mate, he saw her watching him with narrowed eyes and crossed arms, obviously annoyed at being kept waiting. Her face was also slightly green, and she looked on the verge of vomiting again. He winced, but made no comment. Instead he smiled as amiably as possible. "Well, time to get you out of there, sweetheart."

Virginia's mouth pressed into a thin line, but she held her tongue.

Fetching a massive Troll femur, Wolf moved to the cage and indicated she should resume her earlier position from which she had thrust upward to lift the barrier. He joined her and worked his fingers once more under the rough logs, tensing his muscles as he spread his legs wide for leverage. It took at least fifteen minutes to raise the cage high enough, with frequent pauses to shift their grips or to take deeper breaths, but eventually the prison reached the appropriate height. Lunging with his kind's quick reflexes, he snatched up the bone and shoved it into place, propping up the cage. Sighing in relief, Virginia quickly crawled out to freedom.

For what seemed an endless time the two of them kissed and embraced fervently, hands questing and lips searching. After a while they parted, and Wolf cupped Virginia's cheeks, gazing unwaveringly into her blue eyes. "I was so afraid I was going to lose you."

"I felt the same way about you." Her voice caught, and she lowered her eyes. Stroking her jaw with his thumb, he lifted her chin and then shushed her before brushing her hair back, but she would not be silenced. "I was so frightened, Wolf...I didn't know what to do! And then you showed up...and you...you..."

She trailed off and he regarded her expectantly, certain she was about to castigate him for his atrocious eating habits, as well as for eating the rabbit raw when there was a cooking pot handy. But instead she shook her head and shuddered. "You ate the ogre! How could you eat him when he was so huge and grotesque and disgusting? How _could_ you?"

Wolf blinked in surprise; apparently his creampuff had gotten used to his manner of devouring food so that it no longer bothered her. He allowed as how his choice of prey left a lot to be desired; recalling how horribly the beast had smelled in his true form, he felt his gorge start to rise. Clamping down on his roiling gullet, he shrugged and smiled half-heartedly. "Very simple, Virginia. Once he had changed, all of his ugliness and stench were quite nonexistent, and all I could smell and taste was rabbit. And you know how divine rabbit is to me." He grinned at her hopefully. "It wasn't disgusting at all."

Virginia raised an eyebrow dubiously. "If you say so..."

There was no longer any reason to remain in the cave, so together the two of them slipped back out onto the slanting ledge, Wolf carrying the defunct Troll shoes. The moon had by now nearly set, and the only light came from the stars, but the sky itself was lightening imperceptibly. Dawn could not be more than an hour away at most, Wolf judged, and the ledge was chilly and bleak, the temperature low enough that he could see his breath.

From the vantage point of their height, he could overlook the vast expanse of thorns and brambles stretching endlessly to the horizon, broken only by the swath of shattered vegetation where the ogre had crashed through. At the furthest extent of his vision, still a half a day's travel away, the spires and parapets of Queen Rapunzel's castle poked out of its cloaking cover, walls adorned with countless vines and creepers. He sighed, took a step—and another twinge in his ankle made him cry out.

"Wolf? What's wrong?" Virginia was at his side at once, eyes wide with concern as she supported his arm.

"It's nothing much—just a sprain," he muttered dismissively. But the look she gave him would not be ignored, so he quickly described what had happened to him when he tried to free her from the ogre's fist.

Glaring at him as if the injury were somehow all his fault, she sighed and ducked her head underneath his arm, her slim shoulders lending him even greater support. "We'll have to stop somewhere and wrap it so you won't aggravate it anymore. That should do until we reach the castle; there should be some preserved herbs and medicines there. Lean on me." Her tone brooked no argument, so he nodded and did not object as she led the way down the ledge, propping him upright on the weaker side.

It took less time to descend the mountain than Wolf had predicted, for Virginia set a rapid pace, and soon they were once more in the sheltering darkness of the looming brambles, picking their way along a rutted road so narrow as to be more of a path, but not so narrow that it did not allow the bitter wind to whine down the cavernous passage through the thorns. After some careful searching of the underbrush, Wolf found an abandoned fox burrow whose entrance was large enough to admit them, and one after the other they crawled inside, out of the wind and into a cozily warm hollow that was large enough for them to stand up in.

There they found a springy bed of moss and pine needles, still fragrant after all this time, and Wolf settled down onto it gratefully. Virginia was not idle, however; using a pair of tiny scissors she carried with her for emergencies—the same pair, in fact, she had used to make her costume for the Beautiful Shepherdess Competition—she was cutting and tearing strips off of her shirt. When she seemed to have enough, she crouched down beside him and slid up his pant leg to feel his ankle.

He cried out at once, whimpering pitifully as tears came to his eyes. Shocked, Virginia quickly pushed up the cloth to reveal a black-and-blue swelling that made his ankle twice as thick as usual, soft and puffy and sensitive to the touch. Virginia stared down at it in horror, then clenched her jaw. "Wolf! You shouldn't have been walking on this! I don't know if a wrap will be enough now...you're going to slow us down!"

Wolf couldn't argue with her, seeing as now that he was resting and no longer running on adrenaline he could finally feel the flaming pain throbbing up and down his whole leg. But he had to speak in his defense. "Any pain is worth it for you, Virginia...it's nothing compared to what I'd feel if I lost you." He reached out and caressed her cheek tenderly.

A touch of color appeared in her pale face, though whether this was the blush of embarrassment or the flush of anger was unclear. "Oh, Wolf...I know you love me, and I appreciate the rescue, I really do. But...you don't have to put yourself in danger for me. I couldn't bear to lose you, either." Her expression became deeply troubled as she carefully began wrapping the cloth around his ankle, weaving and tying it together to form as tight a covering as he could stand.

Sighing, Wolf shook his head and began muttering to himself. "No no no, you don't understand...you are my mate for life, I have to protect you always. It's my duty and I cannot avoid it. It is bad enough that I did not rescue you in Incarnadine, that you had to use the shoes and Colin's pipe to escape Red's dungeon. If I had failed you again this time, you would have died. And if that had happened, I would have no reason to live myself."

Virginia had been nibbling her lip in concentration as she finished her makeshift wrap, but as she caught his words, she looked up in shock and consternation. "What? You're upset because you didn't get to rescue me from Carmine? How childish can you get, Wolf?" Her eyes blazed in fury as she shoved herself to her feet and began stalking around the burrow. "I think you're forgetting that I'm not weak and helpless! Snow White told me I had to rescue myself. And I'm not going to put up with any sexist rhetoric about how women can't take care of themselves without men's help. I thought better of you, Wolf!" She skewered him with a glare.

Howling in anguish, Wolf slammed his fists down into the dry earth, sending up a shower of leaves and pebbles. How could he be so stupid as to let his mouth run away with him yet again? His inner monologue was almost impossible to keep bottled up, but he had sworn to himself he would do it this time. Virginia could never know of the jealousy and ego that had prompted him to hate himself for not coming to her rescue when she needed it.

It had been this conscious concealment of his motives that had helped foster the wall between them on their journey west, but it had been a small price to pay to prevent a scene like this. And after the May Queen, he had thought it no longer mattered. Now instead his wonderful, heroic rescue of his glorious mate had been ruined!

For a long time he could not even speak coherently, let alone answer Virginia's accusations. All he could do was howl and moan, weep and tremble. His vision was blurry, but he could see she still stood with her back to him, arms crossed severely over her chest. He longed to run to her side and comfort her, to calm her anger and show her his only motive had been his undying love for her, but his ankle was not all that held him back. He knew from the set of her shoulders that it would be dangerous to approach her now. So instead he buried his face in his hands and turned away himself.

"Oh...Virginia...Virginia...no, that's not it at all..."

He was still shuddering with his emotion, numbed by the sudden turn of events that had changed his great victory into a sour, bitter defeat, when he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. Looking up in disbelief, he saw Virginia standing over him. Her eyes still betrayed a deep hurt and smoldering pride, but the anger was muted now, and a certain sympathy softened her features. "Wolf...I..." She sighed and looked away for a moment.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me, I guess I'm still really shook up by that ogre. It's just...I don't want you to think I'm some delicate flower that's going to wilt if you're not there to water me and give me sunlight. I do need you in my life, I do, and I'll always be grateful for how you've been there when I thought I was all alone and had no hope. But I'm my own person and I always will be. You shouldn't beat yourself up if I get in trouble and you're not the one to get me out of it. You should just be glad I got out of it at all!" She looked at him pointedly.

That last statement slammed into Wolf's stomach like the punch Larry Peep had given him as he realized how true it was. Why had he been dithering and fretting over such a silly and inconsequential thing as who had rescued Virginia? She was right, he _had_ been behaving like a spoiled cub! With discomfort he also realized something rooted deep in his heart. In the years since the burning of his parents, he had had next to nothing in life, no reason to believe he would ever amount to anything, or be happy, or have a normal life.

That was the source of the obsessions Dr. Horovitz had highlighted in his personality.

It made perfect sense that he would cling to anything and anyone he cared about for fear that he would lose them too, as he had Duncan and Cerise. Of course he would hover over his dinner and devour it in record time when he had no inkling when the next one would come. Of course he would constantly keep a vigilant eye on his beloved Virginia...she was the better part of him, she made him want to be a better person, the hero that wolves had never been.

What he had said was true, he could not stand to live without her, and it was because she was more beautiful and spellbinding than any enchantment or fairy princess. It was his natural proclivity to coddle her, to protect her even beyond the call of duty, because he still hadn't grown up. He wasn't ready to let Virginia be herself because he was afraid if he did she would be hurt—or worse, that she wouldn't need him anymore and would leave him.

Stunned, Wolf knew he had to find some way to let Virginia know what he had just understood about himself. Wiping away his tears, he took her hands and gazed searchingly into her eyes. "Sweetheart...lambchop...I'm the one who should be sorry. I never meant to make you think I didn't trust you to take care of yourself. I just...I don't want you to think I'm useless, Virginia! If I can't rescue you, then what good am I to you? What kind of mate am I if I let you be hurt and you have to depend on someone else to save yourself?

"I have to prove myself to you, I have to show you I'm worth loving, or I'm no better than what Red thinks of me." He cursed softly and shook his head. "But I have to stop that, I have to let you be strong. You're so much stronger than I am, Virginia. I don't have to protect you. But it is my wolfie instinct to do so...I hope you can forgive me."

A tiny noise escaped Virginia, and for a moment he thought it was a snort, but then he understood it was a sob. When he dared to look at her, he saw tears in her eyes, but she was smiling. "You big furry fool...do you still think you have to prove your love to me? I trust you with my life...and I know you love me. If there's one thing I know, it's that. I have for a long time now. You want to know what good you are to me, what kind of mate you are?" She smirked suggestively and then leaned in to kiss him...long and lingeringly. When she was through, both of them were breathing hard.

"You complete me, that's what you do. Where I am weak, you're strong, and vice versa. You're a mate who really would give his life for me...a mate who makes me feel like the most special girl in all Ten Kingdoms. Even if you do have a funny way of showing it." She tweaked his nose. "I forgive you. Of course I do. How could I not, after you just showed me how wrong I was to snap at you? Just...try to give me my space in the future, and let me get out of trouble however it's meant to happen. If you get to save me, that's wonderful. But if not, don't belabor it. And don't keep any more secrets from me...we've got to be open and let each other know how we feel and why. Okay?"

Wolf stared at her without comprehending at first, until it slowly sunk in. He hadn't ruined things after all! She understood, she still loved him, and she accepted him the way he was! He wanted to leap for joy...yet still a part of him doubted and worried. "But...but after what happened in Kissing Town...after I let you down..."

"No." She cut him off and placed a hand over his mouth. "You didn't let me down, I let you down. And myself. I didn't understand, I couldn't accept that someone could love me so totally and completely the way you do, that someone as handsome and intelligent and honorable as you could find me attractive and want to spend the rest of his life with me. I needed time to adjust, to get over my fear. And you gave me that. I'm the one who hurt you. But now we're stronger for it." Her voice shook, as if she were not quite convinced of the truth of her words, as if some deeper hurt lay behind it. "So let's just put this behind us, and take from it a welcome lesson—that we should always be honest with each other. And no more talk of you dying."

Slowly, tentatively, he nodded.

She chuckled softly. "Come here, you." She drew him into her embrace and kissed him again, even more firmly and arousingly. By the time they were through with this intimacy, they were panting, and Wolf knew more than he knew anything else that they were bonded irrevocably, that absolutely nothing could come between them, not even Red Riding Hood.

Red! He had completely forgotten about her in the tumult of the confrontation with the ogre and the aftermath. He had left her alone with the Piper, whom he did not trust one wolf-whisker, unguarded, unrestrained. Who knew what might have happened in their absence? Not that it could be helped...but still, every moment they dallied here could be costly.

Virginia still had her arms around him, her small hands sliding up and down, exploring every contour of his back even through his shirt. Gently disengaging her arms, he kissed her forehead and then grinned lopsidedly. "Much as I would like to continue this, Virginia, we have to get back to camp. I still don't trust Carmine at all, and there's no telling what she might do while we're away. Piper-boy may have his magic, but he's no match for her tenacity and cunning. We'd better hurry back as quickly as we can."

He started to step toward the entrance, still limping, but he paused when he saw Virginia wasn't following. Glancing back, he sensed right away by her stance and her nervous twisting of the singing ring that something was bothering her. "Dumpling?"

"Wolf...we can't go yet. I'm sure Red and Colin are doing just fine without us. Waiting a little while longer won't hurt anything, and there's something you really need to know. Something I've been keeping from you that has to be told." She took a deep breath. "Something about Colin and me."

Instinctively his hackles rose, and a chill of foreboding ran up his spine. Turning back around, he eyed Virginia suspiciously. The recovered happiness and rapture of true love were fading anew, replaced by the return of tension. Somehow he knew this was bad news...news that would threaten the stability and peace of their relationship more than anything since the Evil Queen.

"And what's that?" he asked with deceptive softness.

Virginia looked as if she were about to cry again, misery lining her taut brows and throat. Far from the confident and determined woman she had been a few moments ago when she reprimanded him for his overzealous attitude, she now seemed crumpled and broken inside. "Colin and I—in our cell in Incarnadine—we...we almost...kissed."

At first Wolf was certain he hadn't heard right. It wasn't possible, this couldn't be happening! It was a nightmare come true, something he had feared ever since the Piper first joined their company. He had kept a hawk's eye on Colin, and he had convinced himself nothing untoward had happened. Yet now he was being told the opposite. And from the agonized expression on Virginia's face, he knew it was true. Colin had taken advantage of her when he had the chance to be alone with her...and who knew how much further it had gone? That thought was like one of the Huntsman's crossbow bolts piercing his heart.

His blood boiling, Wolf snarled viciously and gnashed his teeth. "That's it. When we get back to camp, I'll kill him! He's never going to touch you again!"

Virginia gasped. "No! Wolf, you can't!"

"Why not?" he snapped. Without giving her a chance to explain, he gave her a withering stare. "I told you, Virginia! I warned you not to bring him with us. I warned you he would be trouble, that he'd just try to make you his wife again. I said we should have left him behind, I knew he was dangerous the minute I laid eyes on him! But no, you still think you know better, don't you? You still think you can navigate the Kingdoms all by yourself! Well you're wrong, Virginia, you do still need me to keep you from making mistakes because of your soft heart!"

"Mistakes, huh?" Finally recovering from her flustered distress, she was now impaling him with a flinty gaze that held none of the softness he'd just referred to. "Well if he hadn't come along, I'd still be trapped in Carmine's dungeon and you and our baby would be dead! Or we'd still be wandering the border of the Sixth Kingdom trying to find a way in. So no, I don't think it was a mistake to bring him along at all. You're the one who's wrong to hold a grudge like this!"

Wolf growled softly, but he could not refute her words. At the same time that only exacerbated his fury. After what the Piper had tried to do, after his seduction of Virginia, the fact that he was still expected to feel gratitude toward the arrogant prince was intolerable. And here she was defending him!

Since he could not deny the validity of what she was saying, he took another tack. "Be that as it may, it doesn't justify what he did! You are _mine,_ not his!"

Now Virginia was the one who was growling. "I'm not your possession, Wolf! I'm your mate!"

Wolf crossed his arms and glared sullenly at the ground. Even in his anger he knew he was acting like a cub again, as well as jeopardizing their relationship with his male dominance. But Virginia just didn't understand. Women in the Nine Kingdoms lacked the superiority of men—even the queens and princesses were often seen as figureheads, relegated to token council positions and granted only nominal respect, except for Cinderella of course. And in wolf packs the alpha male was always the undisputed leader.

On the other hand, the alpha female often had just as much power and her own hierarchy of females under her, so there was a precedent. Plus, being in New York he had been exposed to many new ideas and beliefs, including the rights of females—he had learned fast that he did not "totally understand women", not by a long shot. It was hard, but he was changing how he viewed the world. Still, he felt he had a right to be cubbish now after what had happened.

"And anyway," Virginia was saying, "Colin wasn't the one who made the first move." She bit her lip and tried to hold back her tears.

The anger crystallized inside Wolf, and he felt colder and more emotionless than he had since his years of vagabondage. Slowly lifting his head, he answered quietly, emptily, his voice even more frightening now as he regarded her from under his brows. "I think you'd better explain."

Haltingly, shakily, she complied, relating the suicidal despair she had nearly succumbed to in her cell, how Colin had comforted her and persuaded her to open up, how through the expression of her fears and insecurities she had come to terms with her life and how she must live it, how her gratitude had then overwhelmed her and led to the incipient kiss prevented by her ring.

"Don't you see, Wolf?" she concluded desperately. "I wasn't in control of my emotions. I thought we were going to die, all of us. I thought there was no hope left, that the quest was over and destiny had abandoned us. But Colin made me see differently. He made me feel happy again, he showed me that I didn't have to worry about what others thought of me, that I had to live life on my own terms.

"He taught me that I could believe in myself and that I deserved to succeed. That if I just had patience, everything would work out all right. For that I couldn't resist giving in to my emotions, and rewarding him." A pained look crossed her face. "But a kiss was all it would have been, I know it. And if you had been there, if you'd been the one comforting me, I would have gone through with the kiss...and a whole lot more."

Numb and dulled by the shock and disbelief, Wolf barely acknowledged her words, whimpering and curling his lip every now and then. At last he closed his eyes and ran his palms down over his face. How could this have happened? His anger had faded into a strange calm, a disappointment and despair he could not flee. Knowing now what had happened and why, he experienced a strange ambivalence. Once again guilt flooded his heart, guilt that he had not been there to help Virginia in her hour of darkness.

He knew it wasn't his fault, he could not control where Red had imprisoned him, yet being separated from her when she needed him most...it rather made him feel he had earned this punishment, that it served him right for leaving her alone to suffer and grieve over their impending doom. He had failed her as a mate again, and that was why something had developed with the Piper. On the other hand, he resented Colin for being the one to take his place, to fill the role that was rightfully his and that had been left vacant through no fault of his own.

Worst of all, of course, was the fact that Virginia had betrayed him. True, nothing had actually occurred, but still...the fact that romance had been a possibility at all deeply disturbed him. He had been certain there was no question of her loyalty to him, that she loved him with all of her heart and soul. But now doubt had lodged its claws in him, and he could not shake the sensation that even now, he could still lose her.

"Virginia...oh my sweet Virginia..." he whispered. "Why did you lie to me?"

"What?" Her eyes bulged unattractively from their sockets.

He held up a hand to cut her short. "Hear me out," he replied wearily. "You said you trust me, that I'm good for you, that I complete you. But if that's all true, then why did you feel the need to kiss him? Aren't I enough for you? What wasn't I giving you? Where did I fail you, sweetheart?" His voice broke and he began to cry again. "Maybe we don't deserve each other after all..."

Virginia went absolutely white. "W-wolf...I...we...don't..." She swallowed and reined in her stammering. "Don't you ever say anything like that again! Of course you're enough for me...how could you think otherwise? I didn't lie to you...I'd never choose any other guy over you...we _are_ mates, for life. I...I'm only human though, I can't shut off my feelings or my body. I'm going to notice other guys. What I can promise you, though, is that none of them will ever get anywhere with me, because you are the one I've chosen. And I'm never going back on that decision." Her voice, which had been shaky and uncertain, now solidified into iron determination.

He wanted to believe her. He really did. And he almost could. But one thing prevented him from giving in, from accepting at face value the words of trust and unconditional love that she had spoken a few short minutes ago when she had been reassuring him. "But then why did you keep this a secret for so long, if it didn't mean anything? You should have told me right away."

She was crying too, looking even more miserable than before. "I...I wanted to, Wolf. I tried. But it was so hard to admit something like this to you, I didn't know how you'd react...and things kept interfering. By the time there was finally a chance to tell you, so much time had passed it got harder and harder, and looked worse and worse. But you have to believe me, nothing else would have happened."

"Would it?" he asked her sadly.

Virginia stared at him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He realized too late that his words could be construed as an insult to her chastity, but he had to plow ahead anyway. "I mean...Virginia, you told me yourself that you went out with 'loads of guys' in the Tenth Kingdom before you met me. I don't know what they meant to you, but I do know I wasn't the first one you had mated with." He ignored her cold glare. "I knew it from your scent, love. So...what I'm asking is...how do I know I'm not like them...that you won't move on to some other guy after me?" He hung his head. "I am just a filthy animal, after all..."

A riot of emotions raced across her features. First and foremost was enraged offense, and her face flushed as if she had just been slapped. One hand lifted as if she planned to physically slap him back, but then she let it fall. Instead a stricken recognition crossed her face, as if she could not deny there was at least a little truth in his words. This was followed by embarrassment and shame; obviously she hadn't guessed that he knew she hadn't been untouched when they were together.

Lastly came pity and regret, fueled by his final statement...the litany he had always run through in his mind whenever he suffered misfortune in life to explain why it fell on him. He knew he was obsessing again, and he hated using sympathy to win an argument, but he couldn't help himself. What else could explain why Virginia would even look at Colin in that way, let alone feel like kissing him? It had to be that she had finally seen the light about wolves, as he had always feared she would. She knew she could do better than him.

"Wolf." Virginia stepped close to him, lifted her hand again. He recoiled from the coming blow, from the rejection he expected to receive as she yelled at him, ordered him to leave, declared once again that she never wanted to see him again. He wondered what it was, where his mistake had been. Clearly devouring the ogre had been one, but this with Colin had happened long before that. Had it been the way he acted toward Red, or before their capture in Crookedtown?

Or had it been simply a natural progression, an inevitable growing apart? Had he helped her believe in herself until she had grown beyond a need for him? If so, he wouldn't resent her for leaving him now. All he wanted was for her to be happy... He gazed at her face, memorizing anew every detail, the way her lashes curled, the way her pert nose turned up just a smidgeon, the shape of her eyes...memorizing before he lost her for good.

But she didn't turn away, nor did she strike him. Instead she stroked his cheek and leaned against him. "Oh Wolf...I knew this was going to hurt you, I knew I'd messed everything up between us...but I didn't realize how bad it was going to be. I...I don't know what to say...except that you have to believe me. I've never lied to you before. I love you, not in spite of your being a wolf, but because of it. You're not an animal to me...you're sensitive and noble, and I wouldn't trade you for anything. Definitely not for the jerks I've dated and gone to bed with, or even for a prince like Colin. You're right, there are no guarantees in this life, even Happy Ever After doesn't last forever. Only with time can you see that I won't ever leave you for someone else. But...you have to see I'm at least committed to you now. I'm carrying your cub." She rested a hand on her belly.

Wolf couldn't believe what he was hearing. After what he had said and done, after what he was, after all the heartache and confusion, she still planned to stand by him? To stay with him? It made no sense. Of course love made no sense either, but still, any other girl would have washed her hands of him by now. Virginia was just so stubborn...but was it out of real love, or a sense of obligation?

"Yes...yes you are, Virginia. But it wasn't planned. I forced it on you. Are you sure you really want him, and aren't just saying this to please me, or because it's the right thing to do?" They had discussed this subject several times since their return to New York, but there was a new meaning to the question now, and much more at stake.

Her brow wrinkled in that cute way she always adopted when she was irritated. "Yes, I'm sure, Wolf. I wasn't at first...not because I didn't love you or want a family, but because I wasn't sure if I could be a good mother...if I should even have kids after..." She stopped, and he knew she was thinking of the Evil Queen. "I wasn't ready, it was so sudden. But I'm ready now. I'm ready for a lot of things..."

There seemed to be a suggestive emphasis on these words, but he didn't notice, he was so wrapped up in his self-loathing. His eyes were fixed on the pearl of the singing ring, its tiny face looking up at him disapprovingly. He recalled vividly when he had tossed it into the river at Kissing Town, after it had called him a loser. And so he was. If not because he was a wolf, then for the things he had just said to Virginia. He had questioned her judgment, her fidelity, her honesty...how could he ever make it up to her?

Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he cradled her close as he breathed in the intoxicating aroma of her hair and flesh, and he began sobbing into her shoulder. "Oh, Virginia, I'm so sorry, so so sorry...I didn't mean it, I wasn't thinking what I was saying...I wish it was my cycle, then I'd have a good excuse, but then I suppose that's too convenient an excuse for me, and if it was the full moon I'd have said even worse things and you'd never want to see me again—"

"Wolf..." Virginia interjected.

"—but I don't know how we're ever going to work through these misunderstandings, we don't even have that book from your world, what is it called? Oh, yes, _Dr. Phil's Relationship Rescues!_ And without that, how can we figure any of this out, I mean it's so awful, I was being overprotective and there you were almost kissing Colin and maybe wanting more, and I don't know why you got so mad at me when you were hiding that lie, but that doesn't matter now—"

"Wolf..." Her voice had a dangerous edge to it.

"—and I do forgive you, of course, how could I not? I mean you are my one true love and nothing really happened, it came close but close means nothing, close didn't win the Hare his race against the Tortoise, and I don't blame you after how you were feeling, and you are so deliciously scrumptious it's only natural you might step over the line, you can't help yourself, so I'd do anything you want to make it up to you—"

"Wolf!" Virginia yelled. "What I want you to do is shut up for two seconds so I can tell you I'm ready to marry you!"

_That_ got his attention. He went quiet at once and stared at her, jaw hanging. "What?"

"I said, I'm ready to marry you, Wolf." She said it softer this time, more slowly, as if relishing every word and syllable on her tongue. She took a deep breath and gazed up at him without a trace of insincerity or apprehension. "I just realized there's only one way I can prove to you that I do love you and want to be with you, that my commitment is solid and I won't let anyone else—especially Colin—interfere with it. So, as soon as this quest is done and everyone in the Kingdoms is safe again, I want to marry you. Right then. No more procrastinating."

Wolf felt as if he were about to faint. Grinning broadly, he swept Virginia up in a huge bear hug and twirled her around, not even caring about the twinges of pain from his ankle. "Oh, Virginia, you really mean it? Really, truly mean it?" After whirling across the burrow several times he set her back on her feet and clasped her hands tightly. This was a dream come true, a dream he had secretly feared would never come to pass.

Not that he had thought his creamy dreamy girl didn't love him, not for a moment. He had simply known how much she treasured her independence and longed to remain free, unfettered and in control of her life. Now, though, now he knew that all would be well. It didn't matter what had or hadn't happened with the Piper, or what the two of them had said to each other.

She loved him, she truly loved him, and everything else dissolved to nothing. After all they had been through, they were finally going to get married and establish a life together!

Laughing softly, Virginia kissed his hands, then wrapped her arms around him again as she snuggled into his chest. "Of course I mean it, hon. More than I've ever meant anything. We belong together, no matter what else has happened between us, and I'm not going to let anything divide us ever again. After we've defeated the Ice Queen, I'll let Wendell and Lord Rupert plan and scheme and get as extravagant as they like with their wedding arrangements, because I want everyone to know how much I love you, and only you, and that I'm never letting you go!" Her eyes twinkled merrily.

It felt as if a vise had been released from his heart. All the words that had passed between them, all the anger and hurt and disappointment, none of it mattered anymore—all that filled his heart was profound joy and ecstatic glee. He was, without a doubt, the happiest wolf in all Ten Kingdoms. Chuckling, he leaned in and kissed Virginia firmly. "Well then, that calls for a celebration!" The singing ring seemed to agree, its glowing pearl bouncing frantically up and down on its band.

"Oh really?" Virginia replied archly. "And just what did my hairy wolfman have in mind?"

Wolf smirked back at her, his heart thudding against his ribcage as he ran his hands over her shoulders and down to her chest. "Hmmmmm...I can think of so many possibilities...I can't choose between them, so perhaps we should...use them all?" He winked and kissed her again.

When the kiss ended, she was breathless, and a fervent desire burned in her blue eyes. "That sounds wonderful, Wolf...but I thought you wanted to get back to camp to check on Red and the Piper?"

He made a disgusted face—she just had to bring them back into the conversation again, didn't she?—and then chuckled darkly, licking his lips. "Let 'em wait. We've got more important things to do..." He dropped his voice into the lowest, most seductive registers, and then he cupped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her a third time, feeling the heat building inside him.

After an endless moment, Virginia pulled back, but only the short inch needed to gasp out her words. "I couldn't agree more..." She began to unbutton his shirt.

And then words were no longer necessary, they were in fact superfluous and hampering. Driving all of his painful thoughts from his mind, Wolf instead focused on his mate, his hands running up and down her back as his mouth met hers with an eager hunger. But his lips were slow and gentle as he scooped her up in his muscled arms, making sure both of them could feel every inch of him against her. His mouth burned with her tender kisses as he slowly, deliberately knelt down, placing her in the soft moss and pine needles. He hovered over her, pausing as their hands reached mutually for his pants, and then he descended to her throat with a moan of desire...

* * *

Afterwards, several hours later, Wolf lay comfortably with Virginia in his arms, a blissful smile on his face as he kept her fitted snugly to his lap, as if he were the spoon who had run away with the gorgeous dish that was his prize, his strong arms keeping her warm in the chill air. He had awoken slowly, not due to any noise or movement, any danger or threat, but as a result of his body's own internal clock which told him he had slept long enough. His sleep had been interrupted earlier in the night by the ogre, of course, but he often got by on less sleep than most—a habit he still retained from his lonely, furtive days in the Disenchanted Forest, when at any moment he could be hunted and killed by poachers or wolf-haters. It was necessary to be on his toes then, and he remained ever vigilant and alert when in hostile territory today.

Lazily, dreamily, he ran one hand over Virginia's arm, then along her shoulder and neck, his lips following with soft kisses, as his eyes rested disinterestedly on the shafts of sunlight spilling in the burrow's entrance to shine across their intertwined forms. All he noticed was how lovely his mate's skin looked when suffused by the buttery glow of morning light, how she looked even more enchanting.

She still slept, and in her sleep she looked vulnerable, open, innocent and trusting. It was as if while she dreamed she regressed back to what she had once been, the little girl with hopes and a future and visions of love and family...the girl she had been before her mother had left her. And as far as he was concerned, he would do everything in his power to help her reclaim that sense of peace and unsuspecting happiness when awake.

His thoughts wandered, darting from one thing to another without any set course, without lingering long on any one musing, until finally it penetrated his consciousness that the light was far too bright for dawn, and extended at a slant to reach far inside the burrow. Hurriedly glancing down at Virginia's watch, he gasped. It was the ninth hour! They had slept far longer than he had intended, and now the Piper and Red had been left alone all night long and into the morning!

Although he hated to do it, he quickly shook Virginia awake. "Virginia!"

"Wolf...?" She smiled slowly at him.

"Virginia, we have to get dressed and get going, now!" He scratched furiously at his temple. "Look what time it is! Who knows what Red and the Piper have been up to without us there to watch them..." He whimpered nervously.

She glanced down at her watch and gasped as he had. "Damnit, you're right! Here..." She grabbed his shirt and tossed it to him as she rose unsteadily to her feet and stepped to where her own clothing lay crumpled.

In fifteen minutes they were both dressed, presentable, and out of the burrow, shivering in the cool morning air of this northern kingdom. Linking arms, they set off at once back through the thorns along the path left by the ogre, the path that would lead back to camp, with Wolf once again carrying the shoes. His ankle was nearly healed after the long rest it had received, but Virginia was taking no chances and insisted they travel at a slow, leisurely pace despite the gravity of their mission.

He rather suspected her real reason for wanting to take it slow was because she wished to spend more time with him alone, enjoying this rare opportunity to be unaccompanied companions as they had been at the start of their quest. And he did not object at all to her reasoning even though he fretted over what might have occurred in their absence. He knew Colin was quite friendly and sympathetic toward Carmine...what if she had swayed him to her cause...?

Still, the morning was beautiful, and he had his beloved mate beside him. His mate who had agreed to marry him at last, and with whom he had partaken of the sweetest passion a wolf could experience.

Wolf grinned to himself. He knew, of course, that matters were not quite resolved between him and Virginia. He was not foolish enough to believe that making love could cover up what had passed between them, healing the wounds left by their arguments. Now and then, as he flicked his eyes aside, he could catch Virginia glowering at the ground, sniffling softly, or slumping her shoulders in resignation, and he too felt the guilt and worry brought on by all the awful things he had said.

But he did know that whatever fallout there might be in the days to come, it would not be strong enough to overcome their love. The vows they had taken, the renewed faith they had declared, and the intimacy they had shared, they were all signs to him that whatever happened, they were inextricably tied together, never to be severed. He was confident, for once in his life, that all would be Happy Ever After. Virginia hadn't kissed the Piper, and now she had promised to marry him.

All they needed now was for Red to admit she was wrong, and to obtain the dragon's aid, and everything would be perfect. Those were tall orders, to be sure, but they were so close now...surely nothing could stand in their way at this point?

For a half an hour or so, they traveled the beaten path, skirting the deep depressions of the ogre's footprints, lifting their faces to the warm sunbeams streaming down through the canopy, inhaling the brisk, pungent air. The scents of a forest were missing, the scents of life, but at least the colossal stink of Orrin was gone. And that too was a victory for their company. Wolf chuckled anew as he recalled how he had tricked the dumb beast.

At last they neared the campsite, passing through an arch of thorns and picking their way across the tumbled ruins of what had once been a fine country manor house. Seeing the garden wall rising out of the underbrush, Virginia turned to face him. "Now, Wolf...remember what I told you last night. Don't hurt Colin, or threaten him in any way. What happened wasn't his fault, and it's all water under the bridge now."

Momentarily Wolf clenched his fists at the thought of that insufferable prince, but then he relaxed and smiled tensely. "You have my solemn wolf word that I will not harm even one hair on his head!" He scratched at his temple as he made the same gesture he had in the Troll Palace. _Doesn't mean I won't give him a good scare though!_ he thought smugly.

Virginia eyed him suspiciously, but said nothing, leading the way through the last patch of briars.

As they came around the end of the garden wall, they saw that, naturally, the campfire had burned itself out long ago, as it was no longer needed. However, what was not expected, or appreciated, was the fact that the fallow garden was completely empty except for the rucksack the shoes had been in. No one was in sight, either sleeping or sitting up waiting for them to return.

Wolf sniffed the air frantically, trying to catch any trace of the others' scents. The Piper's was quite fresh and strong, but the queen's was fainter, more distant and elusive. That would indicate she had left before Colin, wherever she had gone. Could she have run off while the Piper was asleep, and then he had gone after her when he awoke and found her missing?

"Maybe...maybe they just went to look for food or water," Virginia suggested lamely. She didn't sound as if even she believed her suggestion. She looked around the deserted campsite warily.

Wolf was about to respond when he noticed something crimson extending out from the far end of the wall, nearly hidden by the masking thorns and brambles. He pointed wordlessly, gestured to Virginia to be silent, and then approached the wall without making a sound.

As he drew closer, the object became clearer. It was one of Colin's doeskin boots. At first he thought it had been discarded for some unknown reason, but then he realized the prince's foot was still in it!

Roughly and without regard to safety or manners he grabbed the foot and jerked, ready to drag the Piper free of the briars if he struggled or fought in any way. "All right, Piper-boy, get out of there! What, did you think we weren't coming...back..."

He trailed off in shock as the young man slid easily, and limply, out of the brambles to lie quiescent and unmoving on the ground. Bending over, he grabbed the scarlet and gold tunic and flipped him over to sprawl on his back.

The Piper was unconscious, and probably had been for several hours at least. And the reason was readily apparent—on the side of his head was an enormous lump where something had struck him with great force, and a trace of blood trickled down onto his pale, slack forehead.

Jerking upright, Wolf crouched instinctively, his eyes flaring golden as he tensed in anticipation of the assailant appearing out of hiding to attack again. But even as he did so he knew it was useless, that the ensorcelled Sixth Kingdom was empty and barren except for him, Virginia, and the injured Piper. The one who had done this was long gone. And even without checking Colin or the ground around him for scents, he knew enough to put the clues together and guess who was responsible. As he turned to Virginia, he could tell by the horrified look on her face that she too knew what had occurred.

Red Riding Hood III had escaped.


	15. Fourteen: The Sleeping Beauty

**Fourteen**: The Sleeping Beauty

You _idiot!"_

Virginia could still think of nothing else intelligent or coherent to say as she stalked and stormed about the withered garden campsite, gesticulating wildly and glaring at the Piper where he sat morose and miserable, holding to his throbbing skull a folded strip of her shirt that had been soaked in the frigid waters of the nearest stream.

Finally finding the words she sought, she whirled on him and pointed accusingly. "How could you do this? How could you let her get away like that? You were supposed to be watching her!"

Groggy and weary, Colin looked up at her with a mixture of contrition and indignation. "That is exactly what I was doing, milady...until Her Majesty elected to crown me with a rock! At that point I became rather beyond the concerns of the world. I should like to see you restrain a prisoner while unconscious..." He winced as his raised voice aggravated his pounding headache, then fell silent.

She stared at him in suspicion and fury. Several times since she and Wolf had awoken him, he had related this exact same story, and each time she heard it she became more angry. It might well be the truth, but it did not answer all of her questions or ease her mind.

"Maybe, Colin, but that doesn't explain why she was able to catch you so vulnerable in the first place! You should have known better than to trust her, and you shouldn't have let your guard down around her. Why, exactly, have you avoided telling us what led up to this? What aren't you saying?" Virginia glared at the prince.

For the briefest moment, she thought she saw his eyes flick to the side guiltily—though precisely what the reason was for the slipping of his mask remained unspoken. Then the Piper's look of innocent injury reasserted itself. "Do you think I enjoy this ignominy, Lady Virginia? It is not a moment I wish to relive. Suffice it to say that after Wolf left to rescue you, we conversed for a while and then she prevailed upon me to help her escape. I refused. You see before you the result of my moral choice. End of discussion." He sniffed disdainfully.

Even before Virginia could retort a reply, Wolf was leaping into the conversation gap. Turning from the edge of the clearing where he had been examining the ground for footprints, scents, or other traces of Red's passing, he rose and snarled. "I don't think so, Piper-boy! That doesn't suffice, and that's _not_ the end! You're hiding something, and I want to know what it is. If you know what's good for you, you'll tell us every last detail about what went on here...and I mean everything."

Colin's eyes hardened to agates as he stiffened. "What exactly are you implying?"

"I'm not implying nothing!" Wolf snapped. "I'm coming right out and saying it. I think you're lying. I think you helped her escape from us. I don't know if you being knocked out was part of the plan to make it look convincing, or if she double-crossed you, but either way, you're responsible."

"How dare you!" The Piper wrenched himself to his feet, forgetting his injury in his ire, but being reminded almost immediately as he tottered about, dazed by the pain. With a groan he collapsed back against the wall, but the anger did not leave his eyes. "You go too far this time, Wolf! I have never been anything but loyal to you and your cause since I joined your company!"

"Yeah, but what about before that?" Wolf growled. "I seem to remember a little enchanted pipe music that almost robbed me of my mate!"

"Pipe music that saved _you_ from execution by Carmine, and granted us entry to this kingdom!"

"Boys, boys, boys!" Virginia firmly inserted herself between the bickering men, one hand planted on each others' chests as she gave them warning looks. She could not blame Wolf for his accusations, she herself was only marginally less distrustful of Colin. Unlike her mate, she was certain the prince was a good and noble man at heart, but she also knew that he had been drawing quite close to the queen with every mile they traveled.

In the forefront of her mind was an image of the two of them cradled in each other's embrace at the campfire the previous night, seeming much more comfortable and friendly than they had been the night before that. And Carmine was devious and clever. Even assuming Red had been affected by all the pleas she and Wolf had made, Virginia would put nothing past her when it came to her freedom.

Sighing, she rubbed her forehead and then waited until Wolf backed away, lip curled menacingly, before she faced the Piper. "I have to apologize for Wolf, he's a bit overwrought at the moment." She silenced his expected objection with one hand. "But his point is valid. We really don't know what happened here unless you tell us. Red Riding Hood can be very persuasive, and I wouldn't blame you if you started to help her before refusing."

Colin stared at her, aghast. "You too, milady?" His tone was quite dejected and sad. But at last he sighed and sat back down on his rock, gazing at the ground. "All right...I'll tell you. You probably will not believe me, but I must make the attempt. We talked for a very long time, about Wolf's love for you and how his determination to rescue you exhibited it. I was able to show Carmine that Duncan and Cerise truly loved each other as well...that she was wrong about wolves and needed to make amends. That was when she decided the only way she could help the wolves was if she escaped to her palace."

Watching from a few feet away, Wolf snorted. "Oh, really? You did all that, princey? With no help from anyone else? Now why do I not believe you..."

Virginia glared at him, then gestured to the Piper to continue. "I do believe you. If she'd listen to any of us three, it'd be you. What happened then?"

"She wouldn't take no for an answer," the young man replied in a desperate and despairing voice. "She kept inventing new excuses, new reasons for me to let her go. I countered every one of them, but it did no good. And then...then she..." He paused, swallowed, and flushed. "She tempted me...I won't embarrass myself by saying how. But still I refused. And that is when she struck me and fled."

Frowning thoughtfully, Virginia eyed him speculatively. Somehow she had an inkling what the form of that temptation might have been; coming fresh off of her romantic interlude with Wolf colored her thinking, perhaps, but then again perhaps not. Still, the story was plausible and showed no wrongdoing on his part. "I see...so why didn't she take your pipe? Can you tell us that?" She indicated the satchel where it lay at the side of the garden wall, beside where Colin had been crumpled earlier.

The Piper managed a small smile at this question. "Why, that is easy, milady. Because she could not have used it, and I told her so myself. The pipe has been in my family for generations, and its magic can only be activated by our native talent. It would have done her no good."

Wolf grunted noncommittally. "So you say. But at least you did one thing right then, princey. Without the pipe, she can't get back through the thorns. We can catch up with her easily."

Virginia wheeled on him in disbelief. "What? Wolf, are you crazy? After we've come all this way, after we're so close to the dragon, you want to backtrack and lose even more time?" She threw up her hands in disgust. "I'm upset she's gone too, I really thought we had a chance to change her mind. But we have more important things to do now than chase after a spoiled queen."

From the look of distress on Wolf's face, she might as well have been swiping a plate of succulent lambchops from in front of his slavering mouth. "No no _no!_ You don't understand, if we let her go she'll return with her soldiers and capture us again!"

The Piper snorted. "Hardly. Even assuming she can find a gap in the thorns and return to her kingdom, how do you expect her guards to penetrate the barrier? Plus, by the time she could return, we should already have found the dragon and be long gone." The haughty demeanor left his countenance and his tone became soft, gentle. "Besides...she promised she would not send them."

"And you believed her." It was not a question, nor was it said with scathing sarcasm as Virginia had expected. Glancing at Wolf, she saw instead a pitying expression, as if he truly felt sorry for Colin at being so naive.

"Yes I did." The Piper drew himself up proudly, then dabbed at the lump on his head with the cold cloth. "I think I know when someone is sincere. You weren't here to hear her, to see her. She broke down completely, she realized the true magnitude of her actions. And she seemed most determined to atone for her sins."

Wolf sighed, scratching at the back of his neck, before looking to Virginia for her guidance. "I hope you're right... Well, creampuff...I guess it's up to you. Do we go back, or do we go on to the castle?"

Virginia hesitated, glancing from the Piper's pleading face, to Wolf's hopeful one, to the sunlit path back to the road where Red had vanished. She knew what they wanted, and she knew what Snow White would want, for her to continue helping Carmine crack open the vaults of her heart, to let in the light of reason and tolerance, and to let out her pain and suffering.

But she also knew that time was critical, that at any moment the Ice Queen could finish her conquest and become bolder, casting her shroud of ice across all the lands until nothing living remained, only a frozen wasteland populated by cowering, shivering slaves, a land even more desolate than Narnia. Only this perpetual winter would be real, not in a fictional land. That could not be allowed at any cost.

And with the pressures of the quest mounting, there was not time for both alternatives. It had to be one or the other. And according to Colin, going after Carmine was not even necessary because their campfire colloquy and his further entreaties had already set in motion the desired changes in the queen.

Finally she sighed and decided. "Well...the way I see it is, we absolutely have to find the dragon. After the quest is over, there should be plenty of time to approach Carmine again. And if destiny really does tie us together, our paths should cross again soon. So...let's go on, Wolf. We haven't a moment to lose."

The expression Wolf gave her was inscrutable—she couldn't tell if he was disappointed in her, proud of her, or some emotion in between, if he planned to sneak off on his own after Red or if he saw the wisdom in her words. After a moment he nodded and leaned down to pick up the rucksack. "You're right, cupcake. You're always right. And in any case, we haven't any food, courtesy of Orrin the ogre, so the castle is the only logical place to go."

As he stuffed the Troll King's shoes back in the rucksack, the Piper rose to his feet again and sighed in relief. "How very practical of you, Wolf. And look on the bright side—at least you had the magic shoes with you, so Carmine could not steal them."

Wolf looked up at him and smirked mirthlessly. "I almost wish she had, Piper-boy. Then she could just disappear from our lives and not trouble us anymore. Ever."

Colin met his stony gaze with one of deep disquiet, turning quickly to agitation and anxiety as Wolf's earnestness bored into him, the serious thought that he might do something to hasten Red's disappearance becoming more and more of a certainty. At last the Piper turned away. Virginia watched all of this uneasily, understanding intuitively that this was Wolf's way of reclaiming his dominant role of packleader and alpha male. She understood why it was needed, or rather why Wolf felt it was needed, but it didn't make her like it any more. The dissension in their ranks had to be resolved, but she could think of much more peaceable and friendly ways to do it.

The company took a short time to rest and recuperate, with Virginia tightening Wolf's ankle-wrap more securely while Colin leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes until he felt ready enough to travel again. Then all of them took the opportunity to stop at the stream and drink deeply, since they didn't know when they would find fresh water again. Subdued and uncertain, of each other as much as the quest, they finally returned to the road and set off for the north.

Virginia soon found her mind wandering, as the landscape remained unchanged and unchangeable, the same monotonous expanse of thorns and brambles, bare roadway and crumbled stonework. She found herself stealing glances at Wolf often. She wasn't sure why, her motivation changed from one glance to the next. One moment it was to check and see if he was behaving himself toward Colin—as if he hadn't had enough reason to hate the prince, now he had Carmine's escape to contend with. The next it was to gauge his emotions, to see if he really had forgiven her for her indiscretion as he had said, if he were not secretly studying her with that hurt puppy-dog expression that broke her heart.

Then she was looking to see if he were frustrated or upset over their chosen route; she knew she had made the right decision, after all of the delays in the quest, from the Trolls all the way up to the ogre, no more time could be spared. Yet she still felt guilty. And finally she found herself looking at Wolf slyly every now and then, grinning as she recalled the hours of passion they had spent together. It may have kept them from preventing Carmine's escape, but she would not trade it for anything.

So many thoughts and emotions churned inside her. And all of them centered on Wolf. He was the bulk of her world now, of course, and she had every right and prerogative to look at him and think of him, even for no reason at all, but at the same time, she felt burdened by so much. The words they had exchanged, though muted and dulled somewhat by the passage of time, still echoed in her mind, some making her want to shake some sense into Wolf, and some making her cringe inwardly in remorse. Why did things have to be so complicated?

She realized now that she had bungled her confession badly. Perhaps she should never have made it in the first place, they had made up, the wall was gone, and Wolf had even delivered a heart-stirring testimonial to his undying love for her. And she had gone and ruined it for what had felt like an eternity, spanning the gorge between when the fateful words had passed through her lips and the moment he had clasped her in his arms and told her it was all right. But she'd had to tell him...hadn't she? Her conscience wouldn't have let her keep it hidden.

It didn't matter that the kiss was so meaningless, it would have grown and grown inside her until it engulfed their love. And she could not have withstood that. In any case, she couldn't doubt herself anymore, not since the loss of her insecurity to the May Queen. Instead she felt only a firm resolve inside. Whatever the consequences, she had made her choice and her peace with herself.

But she could have done a hell of a lot better job of it.

Hours passed. The sun rose high in the noonday sky, following a course as ancient as time, its heat warm and inviting even at this northern latitude, burning away the last of the morning mist that had permeated the forest. It also melted the frost that had crystallized on the thorns and brambles, to Virginia's regret. She had found the effect rather pretty, adding luster and light to the shadowed arches of woody trunks and branches, making them shine and shimmer as if they were coated with cascades of diamonds. Without the frost the Sixth Kingdom lost its mysterious magical quality and returned to drab mundanity.

Into the afternoon they traveled, angling toward the center of the kingdom, beginning to scale the immense hill that unequivocally dominated the valley. As they did so, Virginia began to press the pace, more and more eager to reach the abandoned castle so that the next leg of the journey would be completed. She now had a new and compelling reason to wish the quest over...her promise to Wolf to marry him afterwards. Nothing could keep her from that now, it was her rock, and her way of assuring herself that in the end love would triumph over adversity.

She even began to fantasize about what her wedding dress would look like. A gown to rival even Queen Cinderella's, if she knew Lord Rupert's tastes and extravagance. She smiled slightly, but then her good humor faded as she recalled the undetermined status of the protocol master. Had the ice demons captured him? Had he been frozen, kept alive as a spy...or even killed?

Shaking aside that morbid thought, she focused on Wolf and Colin, realizing that they were speaking and had been for some time. Listening closely, she began to chuckle softly as she understood what was being said. Wolf was regaling the Piper with the tale of how he had defeated the ogre, with the expected embellishments, until it became barely recognizable as the events that had transpired. Colin seemed appropriately impressed, if a trifle incredulous now and then, and Wolf, who had most likely started the story in order to frighten the prince into respecting him, was now enjoying himself quite animatedly. It was a good sign, and it prompted her to join in on what aspects of the story she could contribute to.

But then, as they rounded a bend in the road, they suddenly emerged from beneath the canopy of the thorns and stood in the open at the base of a vine-choked hillside, standing unprotected from the elements. Surprised by the change in scenery, they all went silent and came to a halt in the middle of the road.

Out of a mass of leaves and vines as thick and impenetrable as the brambles rose the walls and towers of Queen Rapunzel's long-lost castle, still standing the test of time atop the crest of the hill. The citadel was aged, the weathered stones crumbling and patched with lichen and moss, a dull and uniform gray but still sturdy. There was no sign of life anywhere atop its battlements or at its arrow slits; no flags flew, no soldiers stood on guard.

The only sound was the moaning of the wind between the spires and bridges, the clinking of empty chains against poles somewhere within the ponderous structure, and the creaking of timbers. At the base of the hill lay clustered a small medieval town, but although its buildings seemed in better repair, there was no sound there either, and no movement.

Wordlessly, of one accord, the three of them approached the town, drifting like wraiths toward the yawning gates in the outer wall, disturbed by the eerie quiet and completely ignorant of what they might find inside. But once they passed through the gates, Virginia's mouth dropped. The town wasn't empty after all...it was asleep. Every single person who had lived there eighty years ago remained frozen where they had been when the curse had been cast, arranged like badly-posed mannequins, caught out of time in an endless now, as if figures in a medieval still life.

Just inside the gates, on either side of the gatehouses, stood soldiers on watch, leaning awkwardly on their pikes, chins ducked into their breastplates. Beyond them, in the yard of a neat and tidy house, a housewife had been preparing to beat the dust out of her rugs and slumped over her clothesline. Along the road, people sat on stoops, hung onto each other, or even drooped in mid-step. Farther ahead, the road opened into a marketplace where vendors and buyers lay asleep over the wares in the midst of haggling.

Everywhere it was the same, and Virginia began to take an almost childish delight in seeking out these windows into private lives, as if the display were for her benefit alone. She peered into stores, inns, restaurants, homes. She saw a blacksmith asleep over the bellows of his forge, its fire long since burned out into cold ashes. In a bar she saw the patrons in all sorts of contorted positions, some lying drunk on the floor, others leaning back in their chairs to take a drink, still others collapsed against each other in the middle of a brawl.

In an alleyway she spied a thief leaning over the man he had mugged, his coinpurse dangling from his limp hand to spill its contents across the stones. In a butcher's the proprietor lay facefirst in the perfectly preserved meat he had been chopping with a cleaver while a dog stood with his front paws on the counter, a sausage hanging from his mouth. At an inn a carriage stood unmoving, the horses still in their traces and asleep on their hooves. The coachman was propped up by his whip; the footman half-sat on the step with one hand on the open door; and the lord and lady inside hung out of the windows. In a square beyond the carriage, several boys with sticks and hoops sat on the edge of a fountain whose waters remained eternally frozen in their trickling fall, while at the base of a building a cat lay in the act of pouncing on a mouse.

After a while the novelty wore off, and Virginia began to feel the return of her discomfort. "This is just too weird," she said in a hushed whisper as they stood below an eavespout where a mother bird had just alighted and now slumbered over the upturned beaks of her babies. She glanced then into the next square and saw a gibbet erected, with a condemned man sleeping as he stood on the trapdoor with his neck in the noose. The hangman slept at his post, hand about to pull the lever. She shivered.

"I didn't realize it would be like this," Wolf agreed just as softly. "Huff-puff!"

Not wishing to remain in this ghostly yet somehow still living town any longer than necessary, the three of them hurried on until at last they found the road leading to the castle gates. There the drawbridge remained lowered and unguarded, admitting them entrance. In the bailey an ostler stood with his arms draped around the neck of the horse he had been bridling. Passing on to the keep, they found scenes of court life stilled for their inspection.

Cooks in the kitchens had nodded off over their pots and pans. A host of laundrywomen stood with their hands plunged into the water as they clutched sheets over washboards. The royal doctor dozed over his mortar and pestle while a woman and her baby waited in slumber at his door. In the great hall, minstrels slumped over the balcony of their gallery, their instruments still to their lips. A page held a long scroll before his unseeing eyes, while countless courtiers lined the walls in various states of repose. The king and queen themselves sat in state on their thrones, the latter's gorgeous locks of golden hair cascading in whorls and waterfalls of silkiness to completely cover her lap and drape over the arms of the throne to nearly conceal the dais.

Wolf stood transfixed as he stared at her, his finger trembling before him. "That...is Queen Rapunzel herself...the only one of the Five Women Who Changed History that still lives, besides Cinderella. And that is her husband, King Arundel...the prince who rescued her from the witch. We are in the presence of living legends, Virginia."

She nodded mutely, unable to take her eyes from the exquisitely beautiful face of Rapunzel and her handsome husband, somnolent though they might be. The Piper, however, looked around in confusion. "But where is the Sleeping Beauty?"

Snapped out of his daze, Wolf eyed Colin curiously, then assessingly. "She is most likely in one of the towers. Princesses seem to adore towers for some reason."

The Piper fingered his satchel absently, his eyes tracing the details of the queen's face, as if he were envisioning how beautiful her daughter must be. "Take me to her then..." From the tone of his voice, Virginia wondered if he even knew he had spoken aloud.

Wolf hesitated, then nodded again, giving Virginia a quick and pointed look. Then he led the way on a search of the castle.

They found more courtiers on benches and chairs, secretaries asleep with quills still in hand, maids leaning against bedposts as they prepared to strip the sheets, ladies asleep over their sewing and knitting. In a magistrate's court there was even a lawyer in powdered wig propped up against his table, while the magistrate himself sat with his chin in one palm, the other resting on his gavel. Finally, after several hours of climbing and searching, they found her in the highest tower.

Virginia stopped in the doorway, gazing into the gloomy attic room, listening to the rafters moan. After a moment she led the way inside, but before she reached the low divan where the princess lay, she paused and looked out the embrasure. As far as her eye could see, the Sixth Kingdom was covered with the wretched thorns and brambles she hated by now. Only to the southwest could she see a change in the landscape—a rocky expanse of cliffs riddled with caves, lining a seacoast where water glinted either gray, blue, or silver depending on the light. Her heart sank as she realized how long it would take to search every one of those caves for the dragon.

Turning away, she looked back into the attic and let her eyes adjust. The room was crammed full of old junk: painting frames, swivel chairs, desks, cast-iron stoves, pottery, mirrors, trunks and wardrobes, the collection of generations. It seemed to match fairly well the appearance of the cellar of the Snow White Memorial Prison, where she and Tony had first emerged into the Nine Kingdoms after following Wendell the dog through the Traveling mirror, way back when.

As more details filed in for her to examine, she noticed Wolf sitting on a small footstool, his ankle unwrapped so he could apply a bitter-smelling salve he had found in the doctor's cabinet during their survey. Then she saw the Piper. Oblivious to everything and everyone else in the room, he stood over the dusty divan, drinking in every feature of the sleeping maiden.

She had to admit he had good reason to. The princess certainly seemed to have stepped out of a fairy tale, her rose brocade robes folded and pleated neatly around her petite and shapely form. Her long lustrous hair, a breathtaking ebony, blanketed her to her hips, a golden crown of amethysts and topazes nestled atop her head in its locks. Her skin was a creamy white, like the richest milk, with the faintest hint of a blush at her fine cheekbones. Her forehead was broad and unlined, her nose tiny and delicate, her lips narrow and slightly pursed. Her hands were slim and rested beside her body; one was lying there quite naturally, but the other was turned palm-up, the fingers spread wide.

Peering closer, Virginia saw something long, black, and shiny stabbed into the tip of a finger. At first she thought it was a poison thorn, but then she realized it was the sharp tip of the spindle of a spinning wheel, broken free of the machine. Abruptly searching the darkness, she found the spinning wheel just under an overhanging rafter, and to her shock it was familiar to her—she had seen it once before, in the dream of Snow White's cottage...

A soft sound interrupted her reverie, and she turned back to see Colin gently stroking the princess's cheek, another sigh escaping his lips. The devotion and naked longing in his eyes was something she had never seen there before. After a long, meaningful moment, he half-glanced over his shoulder at Wolf, still keeping one eye on the sleeper. "What is her name?"

Knotting the wrap back around his ankle, Wolf looked up in time to catch the Piper's eye, and he blinked at the fervent desire burning there. "Briar Rose," he answered simply, his tone as marveling and awed as his expression.

"Briar Rose," the Piper echoed, breathing the name as if it were a prayer. Slowly, ever so slowly, he knelt beside the divan, sweeping his hat off of his head. He took the princess's free hand and stroked it before looking to Virginia in expectation. "I wish there was some way I could help her...I wish there was a chance in the fairying forest that I was he who could break the spell."

"What makes you think you aren't?" Wolf cleared his throat uncertainly and smiled lopsidedly. "You are the only unattached prince here, after all, Piper-boy."

Colin blinked, then looked from Wolf to Virginia. "Do...do you really think...it's possible?"

Virginia took a slow step toward the divan, her hands clasped and wringing nervously. In the stress and confusion and intense emotions of the journey, the ogre's attack, the rescue, and Carmine's disappearance, she had almost forgotten what the Piper had done to enter the kingdom...how it had seemed a signal that he was the prince meant to free the Sleeping Beauty.

She still did not know if that were so...but now it seemed even more likely. The way Colin looked at her, the utter worship and radiant emotion, all pointed toward love at first sight. He seemed in a trance, as if controlled by destiny instead of his own choices. Every part of her being told her he was the one. And even if she had not been certain, what harm could there be in trying?

Of course if he was not the one, nothing would happen, and Colin would be extremely disappointed...his heart might even be broken. And no matter how much trouble he had been on the quest, no matter the arguments his presence had caused, no matter the suspicions she still held about his part in Red Riding Hood's escape—suspicions that faded when she witnessed how uncomplicated and pure and true the love shining in his eyes was, a love that denied any falsehood or guile lay in his soul—no matter all of this, she did not wish to be the instrument of any pain to Colin.

And yet...

Forcing a cheery smile, she nodded to the Piper. "Yes, Colin...I think it is. Why don't you try it?"

Swallowing hard, the particolored prince sat down on the edge of the divan beside the princess. He looked once more to Virginia for encouragement, then received it. She in turn watched with her heart in her throat as Colin leaned down, lips parted to let excited and rapid breaths flow in and out over the maiden's skin. His eyes half-closed and he took one last breath. Then, slowly, he kissed Briar Rose.

It was tentative at first, barely a touch at all. But then it gradually became more earnest, lips pressing and working firmly, feverishly, hungrily. And as Virginia gazed in amazement and hope, the greatest gift imaginable happened. The air over the divan, indeed throughout the whole room, shimmered, sparkling as with fairy dust, and then a ripple burst out from the center of the attic, as if a stone had been cast into a placid lake. As it passed over her Virginia felt an incomparable joy and delight, growing stronger and stronger. Then before her startled eyes the spindle tip fell from Beauty's finger and dissolved into dust.

She whirled to face Wolf, grinning like an idiot, and saw a similar expression on his face, a mixture of disbelief, giddiness, and profound rapture. She longed to run to him, to embrace him, as if the expression of true love that had just splashed outward had inspired her to renew her own vows of love. But instead she turned back once more to face the divan.

What she saw made her throat catch. The Piper had broken the kiss and hovered only a few inches above Briar Rose, gazing down at her as if all the magic and mystery and glory in the Kingdoms were contained in her face. And slowly, very slowly, in response to his smile, the Sleeping Beauty, sleeping no more, opened her hazel eyes to return his gaze...

* * *

Keeping herself upright by holding onto a maple bedpost, Virginia watched with bated breath as the sweet-faced princess sat up against the arm of the divan, blinking in confusion before smiling uncertainly. She yawned, covering her mouth with her delicate pink hand, then reached out to the Piper's hand. "What has happened? The last I remember..." She trailed off and gazed into the shadows where the spinning wheel stood, then looked back to him. "Who are you?"

Stroking the back of her hand with his fingers, Colin helped her sit up the rest of the way. "I am Prince Colin, your Highness. And I have broken the spell that was cast on you. You have been asleep for eighty years, thanks to a fairy's curse. But now all of that is ended." He smiled reassuringly.

For a moment Briar Rose narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but then her expression cleared and she smiled radiantly. "Then I, and my family, and my kingdom, owe you a debt that can never be repaid." Her dulcet voice and exquisite beauty made Virginia very self-conscious, and she was painfully aware of how her rather frumpy sweater, T-shirt, blue jeans, and loafers compared to Beauty's regal robes and crown.

But she didn't have time to dwell on her appearance, for Briar Rose had apparently decided to attempt some form of recompense. Snaking her arms around the Piper's shoulders, she lifted her face to his and kissed him in return, head tilted at just the right angle, her lips almost seeming to meld with his.

Virginia was just beginning to think she and Wolf should give the two of them some privacy—and was about to wryly suggest they get a room—when something unexpected happened. Another shimmer of magic filled the air, and another ripple splashed outward, but this one did not dissipate quickly as the first had. In fact it seemed to last endlessly, one wave of power following fast on the heels of the previous. Around them, the tower walls began to shake in response, as if the magic were playing the exact note to make them resonate.

A loud noise of babbling voices and cries of protest broke the profound silence of the kingdom outside the castle, and Virginia, startled, rushed to the window to peer out. What she saw astonished her. Far below, inside the walls of the town, all of the people who had previously been frozen in time were being buffeted by the wind of the rippling magic, and as each was touched they came alive, looking around in fear and confusion, all of them talking at once in voices strained by worry and anger.

But the magic did not stop there. Washing out over the town, it scoured every building of dust, dirt, mold, and moss until they looked as if they had just been built and painted yesterday. Then it wheeled about and whipped back over the town again, flowing up the gray, vined walls of the castle like ocean swells shimmering with moonlight. In its wake it left pristine marble of the purest white, bare of vegetation and rising high into the welkin to cut the sky with proud defiance.

Again the magic changed direction, facing back out over the thorny landscape that surrounded the now-verdant hilltop. It seemed to gather itself, like a feline about to pounce, and then there came a sharp, thundering tone as of a great bell, growing louder and louder, and all at once the rippling waves exploded outward from the castle and bathed the entire kingdom in white light. One after another the waves crashed and roiled across the land, and everywhere they touched a miracle was worked.

Ruined stones of buildings were caught up, swept about, and restored to the castles and manor houses they had once been. The soil humped up and overturned, changing from barren and dry to rich, black, and fertile, and then grass and trees began to grow. Seeds burst from the ground, sprouting with new life. Whole villages thrust upward from where they had disintegrated long ago.

A collective groaning sigh echoed about the kingdom as the unnatural breathing of the bramble forest heaved, shuddered, and went silent, and then all of the thorns and brambles withered and died, dissolving into dust as the spindle had. The shock wave of the destruction raced outward from the castle like the blast from a nuclear holocaust, but what came behind it was life, not death. Everywhere Virginia looked, something new and enthralling formed.

Rivers wound in their courses where none had been before, bringing water and life to the land again. Farm fields were uncovered and restored, overflowing with abundant crops—one in particular, a leafy green plant with white, pink, and blue flowers shaped like bells she thought she should recognize, seemed predominant. Trees arched their branches skyward and plunged their roots into the earth, while birdsong filled the air from the countless avians flitting about.

By the time it was over and the magic had advanced to the border and beyond before sinking into the ground, Virginia's heart was pounding and tears of joy streamed down her cheeks. She felt Wolf's warm body slide up next to her as she stood there gripping the windowsill, heard his sharp intake of breath, but she did not look at him. She only had eyes for the incredible vista outside.

In the space of a few short minutes, the neglect and dissolution and ruin of eighty years had been undone as if it meant nothing, and what had been a cold, friendless, frightening place had turned into a land so achingly beautiful, so real and alive, that it seemed impossible they could be the same kingdom. But she knew it was no illusion—the fragrance of honeysuckle and poppies on the wind was too strong, the vibrant colors of the flowers and trees were too bright, and the carol of the birds and gurgling of streams was far too delightful to the ear.

The Sixth Kingdom had been freed.

Breathing shudderingly, Virginia slowly turned back to face the room, her arm rising instinctively to grasp Wolf around his waist. The attic seemed to be the only thing that had not changed, as if the epicenter of the spell were preserved from its touch, although she did notice it seemed much cleaner than it had been, that the windows provided more light, and the junk no longer looked so worthless and useless, as if it had only been waiting for the time when it could be used to refurnish the castle. Only one thing was missing, the spinning wheel, although a pile of ash covered the floor where it had stood, whipping away in the warm breeze.

Briar Rose now stood beside the Piper, still embracing him, still kissing him luxuriantly. Finally she broke free, flushed and even more radiant than before. Turning to face them, she kept Colin's hand clasped in hers as she looked at the others in puzzlement and curiosity. "Colin is our savior...but who are you, and why are you here, may I ask?"

Virginia could not find her voice, and apparently neither could Wolf, but the Piper stepped smoothly into the gap. "They are the Lady Virginia and her consort, Lord Wolf, and they are here to fulfill a quest to save the Nine Kingdoms."

The princess blinked, then shifted her inquisitive eyes from one person to the next. "A quest? How extraordinary! But since when did the Kingdoms need saving?"

Apparently the princess was not too bright, for even if being asleep eighty years had left her out of the loop, as far as Virginia could tell the Kingdoms almost always needed saving. But Colin only chuckled. "That...is a fairly long story, your Highness. And I think we should tell it to your entire court, not just yourself. Shall we descend? I am certain the king and queen will be relieved to see you alive and well." He stepped toward the stairs leading down from the garret, glancing questioningly at the others.

Nodding mutely, Virginia turned and looked up into Wolf's wide and darting eyes, seeing in them the same pleasure and celebratory excitement she felt deep in her soul. Impulsively she kissed him as well, long and passionately, before leading the way after the Piper and Briar Rose, but with each step she took, she felt the power of her love for Wolf fill her with unending warmth. It was not magic on the order of that wrought by Colin's kiss, but it was magic nonetheless.

* * *

Virginia was still in a daze half an hour later as she stood with Wolf, the Piper, and the princess in the throne room of the restored castle, which had enormous windows on the western wall that let in the crimson and orange rays of the setting sun. All around her color and sound filled the chamber with dazzling vibrancy, so shockingly different from the disquieting silence and stasis that had been there before that she could not focus on anything that was being said.

Quite a lot was being said, as it turned out. Because she was so distracted, she could do little but make a few offhand remarks, so the bulk of their story was left to Wolf and Colin to relate. Between the two of them, they managed to explain to the king and queen how the court had come to be cursed and freed, and how all of them had come to be there at the right time. Wolf in turn made sure to tell of the wicked Ice Queen and the danger she posed to the Nine Kingdoms unless they could find the dragon who dwelt somewhere within the monarchs' realm.

At first the rulers had been understandably skeptical, of the spell as well as their quest, for to them it had seemed as if no time had passed—they had not aged a day, and the only lingering aftereffect of their sleep had been a few cramped muscles. But Briar Rose attested to the spinning wheel she had discovered in the attic tower and the spindle that had inexplicably drawn her to it, and this coupled with the common knowledge of the fairy's curse convinced everyone.

As for the Ice Queen, since Arundel and Rapunzel came from another time, one where more vigilant eyes had been turned northward in fear of an invasion, it had not taken much persuasion there either. They were, after all, much more trusting than Red Riding Hood III had been.

Once all was made clear, the king and queen were overjoyed and called for a glorious celebration in their honor. Wolf tried to stress the urgency of their quest, but the royals insisted. Prince Colin, they declared, needed time to get to know and draw close to his future wife, and the rest of them needed a chance to rest and recover in civilized surroundings.

Moreover, they were all heroes of the land for their efforts on behalf of the Sixth Kingdom, and they would be remiss if they did not show proper gratitude to their benefactors. The celebration would only last for a day, Arundel assured them, and after that they would be given all possible assistance in reaching the dragon, who was easily located as he had been there long before the curse had been cast.

Wolf was rather distraught over yet another delay, but Virginia finally was able to focus enough to softly tell him it was all right and to accept the offer. So with as much grace as he could manage, Wolf bowed and acquiesced, at which point they were all escorted to their chambers.

It was not until she was alone in her opulent room and realized that she had been quartered separately from Wolf that Virginia came back to herself. Although she didn't like being without her mate to help warm her bed, she concluded it was not worth raising a fuss about, since it would only be for a night or two, and in any case she was too tired to have been very good company. All the days of heavy traveling on horseback and on foot, as well as the stress of her emotions and the loss of sleep the previous night, all caught up with her at once, and she tumbled into bed, falling asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

The next morning she was awakened by the sound of birds chirping at her window and water splashing somewhere in the room. Groaning, she rubbed her eyes and sat up slowly, and as her vision cleared she became aware of how truly lavish and exquisite her chamber was. The bed she lay in was large enough for three people, the mattress soft and down-filled, the sheets a rich ivory silk, and the frame was fashioned of heavy cedar that gave off a fragrant spicy scent, the wood carved into the shape of twirling leaves and flowers, with angelic cherubs perched on each bedpost that reminded her oddly of the little girl Snow White had disguised herself as in Kissing Town.

Looking further, she sat in awe of the fine trappings—carpeting of gold and crimson that looked so thick you could sink into it, a chest of drawers with an ornate mirror that would have fit in perfectly in a Renaissance museum, tapestries and paintings adorning pale blue walls, lace and velvet curtains at all of the windows, a silver tea service set upon a low table, a massive fireplace of marble where a fire of pine logs already blazed, an incredible chandelier overhead dripping with crystals that prismatically scattered the sunlight. To the side she could even see a pair of open doors leading out onto a terrace or a balcony. It was even more beautiful and gorgeous than the room she had been given at Wendell's palace after the coronation.

As she sat there in stunned silence as if she had fallen under the curse that had so long permeated the kingdom, the bedcurtains were suddenly thrust aside and a maid stood there, middle-aged but still pretty, her brunette hair interspersed with gray swept back into a bun under her crisply starched cap. "Good morning, milady," she said in a reverent yet still no-nonsense voice, as if all the riches around her were quite ordinary.

"How may I serve you? There is much to be done to prepare for the banquet and ball. Shall I bring you your breakfast first, or would you prefer to bathe? Your journey must have been most dreadfully unsanitary. And the seamstress wishes to know when she can take your measurements for your gown." The maid eyed her swollen belly suggestively but said nothing.

Virginia was rather taken aback at all of this, and for a moment she clutched the sheet protectively to her chest. But then she forced herself to relax and smile. "Um...what's your name?"

"Maureen, milady."

"All right...Maureen." She paused and looked past the maid to where a gold bathtub that would fetch a king's ransom languished beside another fireplace. A kettle hung over the fire, boiling water, while the basin itself already steamed with a bath drawn ready. Towel, soap, and washcloth were also readily available. "I think I'll take my bath first, but do go and bring me my breakfast, I'm _starving."_

"Yes, milady." The maid executed a quick curtsy and departed, giving her much-needed privacy.

For a moment Virginia allowed herself to fall back onto the bed with a cry of giddy excitement, and then she rose and hurriedly undressed, tossing her clothes aside with impunity. She hadn't been traveling in them as long as she had been in the clothes from her first adventure in the Kingdoms (and how awfully dirty and sweaty _they_ had been!), but they were none too fresh either, especially after her time spent incarcerated in Crookedtown, the prison wagon, and Red's dungeon, so she was eager to get out of them just the same. Once she was free, she slipped gratefully and delightfully into the wonderfully warm bathwater.

After soaking for a while, she sat up to reach for the bar of soap and a washcloth, but noticed a series of crystal bottles and decanters set in a line on a nearby shelf. Perfumes and bath lotions, she assumed. She sniffed several, identifying them by scent—jasmine, honey, rose, passion fruit (she'd save that one for later with Wolf)—then chose a rich vanilla, adding it to the water. As the fragrance rose up around her, she settled back again and sighed happily. "I could get used to this," she murmured.

But then a stray thought came to her, making her frown—indeed, she would have to get used to this. It was, after all, the royal treatment, and when she married Wolf she would be marrying a prince. An unacknowledged one, but a prince all the same. She'd almost forgotten that, but now the true shock of it hit her all over again. She would be royalty. She would be a princess, what every little girl, including herself, dreamed of. And between his status and her own as the stepsister of King Wendell...

Visions of how truly enormous and impressive her wedding was going to be danced through her head, and with a groan she sank down into the bathwater.

Unfortunately the one luxury she didn't have was time to herself and time to hide from her future, for soon enough her maid returned with her breakfast and the whirlwind of preparations began. Virginia remembered eating the delicious meal, but she was so nervous she didn't even know what it was she ate. And then the seamstress was there, a severe and spry old woman who deftly took her measurements without batting an eye at Virginia's pregnant status, her chalk and tape determining every number with sometimes embarrassing closeness. Then came the fabric, an emerald silk that shimmered like a tropical sea, adorned with countless pearls and diamonds. After seeing the cloth, Virginia remembered little else, her mind frozen only on the thought of how expensive this dress would be, and yet the king and queen were giving it to her out of nobility and gratitude.

Eventually the dress was ready (although it took all day to complete it), and as she turned in front of her mirror, Virginia was awed anew. The cloth was loose and flowing, draping over her body in such a fetching manner that it concealed and softened her swollen belly, and the bodice was tight and pushed up so that attention was called to her bosom instead of lower down. A silver tiara decorated with emeralds and a matching set of earrings completed the ensemble. She truly felt like a princess, and both the maid and the seamstress said she looked like one.

By the time she went to meet Wolf, it was nearly the time they had descended to the throne room the previous day, and instead of dazed and indifferent, she was now absolutely enthralled by the opportunity to be seen in this dress, and she was even more excited about the prospect of Wolf's reaction to it. She was not disappointed. When he emerged from his chamber dressed in a midnight blue suit that accentuated his slim hips and broad shoulders and clung to every muscle, his jaw dropped and he began to drool, making her burst out laughing.

"Oh, Virginia!" he whimpered, as if the sight of her beauty hurt his eyes. "You've outdone yourself! Cripes, you look...you look..." Words escaped him. "You look absolutely _ravishing!"_

"Well, I had a little help." She ducked her chin, extremely embarrassed. "You don't look so bad yourself."

"Oh, this?" He plucked at his suitjacket. "This is rags compared to what you're wearing, Virginia."

The sincerity in his voice touched her heart, as it always did whenever he complimented her. With tears in her eyes she looked up at him, becoming lost in his own gaze. This was the way she always wanted Wolf to look at her, not the way he had back in the fox burrow, and she swore to herself she would do all in her power to make sure he would never have cause to look at her differently.

"So..." She searched for something to say. "How's your ankle?"

Wolf smiled and shifted from one foot to the other proudly, not a twinge of pain on his face. "Good as new, my little sausage! The doctor here is quite good, between his herbal remedies and medicinal spells, it's like I was never hurt." He chuckled. "A good thing, too, or I wouldn't be able to dance with you tonight."

He nodded his head toward the grand marble staircase that swept in a huge curve down toward the first floor. Faintly, elsewhere in the palace, she could hear the strains of a waltz begin, stop, then begin again. The orchestra was only warming up, but the music reminded her uncomfortably of that which had filtered down through Wendell's palace when she and her father had been searching for the ballroom to save all the guests and stop her mother.

She shook herself. There was no reason to feel worried or suspicious, there was nothing sinister about this ball. She was here to enjoy herself, to enjoy this brief respite from their quest.

"And I'm so looking forward to that," Virginia said at last with a smile. She extended one gloved hand to him. "Shall we descend, Lord Wolf?"

Wolf took her hand and then linked arms with her, guiding her toward the first steps. "It would be my pleasure, Lady Virginia."


	16. Fifteen: The Reach of Destiny

**Fifteen**: The Reach of Destiny

Upon reaching the ground floor, the two of them followed the sound of the music along a wide hall lined on both sides with floor-to-ceiling windows, its roof supported by elegant flying buttresses. At the end they emerged into a vestibule, passed through another arch, and found themselves in the ballroom. Virginia's breath fled.

It was fully large enough to hold two football fields, the entire expanse of the floor covered with parquet inlaid with gold, while fluted pillars lined the walls and the ceiling was painted with a mural that put her in mind of the Sistine Chapel. Waiters, decorators, and other servants dashed here and there about the room, adding the finishing touches to the bunting, streamers, and exotic vining plants that lent even more color and beauty to the room. At the far end, rank upon rank of tables hung draped with lace tablecloths, but Virginia couldn't see many details except one, a magnificent ice sculpture on the central table carved into the shape of Briar Rose and Colin's heads and shoulders.

"Wow," she breathed at last. "The Nine Kingdoms sure know how to throw a party. Did these guys go to the same decorating school as Lord Rupert?"

Wolf threw her a quizzical look. "I wouldn't know, my creamy darling."

"It was a joke, Wolf." She chuckled, then looked around the ballroom again. Down by the tables she saw a dais with two thrones, presumably for the king and queen, with another pair set at a lower level for the happy couple. She frowned for a moment, recalling now King Arundel's blithe pronouncement from the previous evening how Colin and Briar Rose were to be betrothed. They certainly didn't waste any time getting acquainted here, she thought sourly.

Of course, after just escaping from the terrible curse, they would naturally be anxious to ensure the future, and in any case she knew arranged marriages were the norm here, as they had been in Europe for centuries. But that didn't make her any more approving of the practice. She had seen how the Piper and the princess looked at each other, but still, what if they weren't meant to be together? What if they wouldn't be happy?

As if her thoughts had summoned them, Colin and Briar Rose suddenly appeared from a pair of heavy walnut doors behind the dais, and Colin waved to them encouragingly. "Lady Virginia! How marvelously beautiful you look! Come here, the princess has been most eager to meet you both."

Virginia raised an eyebrow even as she and Wolf strolled over toward the waiting couple. Briar Rose seemed to have a short memory, she'd already met them up in the garret. This seemed but one more sign that the princess was not the sharpest tack in the box. Girding herself for several rounds of endless small talk until the banquet began, she forced a smile.

"Good evening, Lady Virginia," the princess greeted her warmly, inclining her head just the amount required for propriety and no further.

Virginia wasn't sure if Colin had told her she was to marry Wolf, who was a prince, or anything about her status as a heroine of the lands, but in any case this airhead's respect didn't matter to her at the moment. "Good evening. Nice to see you, ah, so well-rested."

She meant it as a little dig at Briar Rose's eighty years of cursed sleep, but the princess took it as a joke and laughed merrily. "I should think so! After pricking my finger on the spindle, I fain would never lay my eyes on a bed again!"

Another reminder of Beauty's lack of intellect, considering how many times she must have been warned to avoid spinning wheels. Virginia nodded absently and took to studying the Piper. She had almost not recognized him when he entered the room, she was so used to seeing him in his particolored traveling costume. Now he wore a royal uniform jacket and trousers adorned with countless medals and emblems, rather like the one she had seen the Dog Prince and later Wendell wearing at the coronation, only this one was a brilliant azure, exactly the shade of Colin's eyes. She thought he looked incredibly dashing in it, every inch a prince. Briar Rose wore a dress similar in style and cut to the one she had worn in the tower, only this one was mauve, and her ebony hair now lay in an elaborate series of braids and curls down over one shoulder.

Virginia realized the princess was saying something and focused on her words. "Prince Colin has been regaling me with tales of your adventure together. Is it true you faced down an ogre and won?" Her eyes were wide and a trifle frightened.

"Yes," she replied succinctly.

Briar Rose shook her head in amazement, and a gleam of respect came into her eyes. "I salute you, then. My fiancé also tells me that you and Lord Wolf are two of the...Four Who Saved the Nine Kingdoms?" She pronounced the title with some hesitation, as if still getting used to it. The look she gave Wolf was admiring, without a trace of the hatred normally found in Nine Kingdoms citizens toward wolves. For that reason alone Virginia found herself more inclined to be forgiving of the princess's mental capacity.

"Yes, that's what everyone calls us." She didn't mention that the title was derived from something Tony had mentioned to her in passing, that one of his cell mates at the prison, a goblin named Clay Face, had carved a statue of them with that title as the legend, well before the adventure had gotten under way. She didn't mention it mostly because she wasn't sure herself how that had happened. Wendell had observed later that goblins could read the future almost as well as Gypsies and had left it at that. "Has he told you about all of our adventures, then?"

The princess shook her head. "Only in the barest of sketches. But I would be most pleased if you could do the honor for him."

Virginia sighed; she seemed to be forever repeating the past when around the various courtiers and royals she encountered in the Kingdoms. "Well, you see, it all started when Relish the Troll King used his shoes of invisibility to break into the Snow White Memorial Prison..."

By the time she had finished telling the whole story, with help from Wolf, all of the other guests had gathered and were genteelly chatting away as they sat or stood around the banquet tables. But none of them, not even Briar Rose, noticed anyone else around them. The princess seemed enthralled by the tale, rarely interrupting it to ask any questions, but the few times she did, they were very perceptive and astute questions that made Virginia take back her superior judgment of the girl's intelligence.

For example, Beauty glossed over the parts of the adventure most of her listeners wanted to hear—the various chases, escapes, and battles—and instead focused on emotions and feelings. She asked how Virginia felt when she first saw Wolf at the Grill on the Green, when she was in her mother's cell, when she stroked Wolf's tail in the beanstalk forest, when he climbed her hair to save her. (She was amused at the comparison to her mother.) She asked why Virginia believed in Wolf when he was arrested for Sally Peep's murder, why she succumbed to the magic of the swamp. And when they reached the climax of the tale, instead of caring about the "poisoned" guests and the death of the Huntsman, she took Virginia's hand and with strong empathy asked to hear the Evil Queen's final words.

As tears stood in Virginia's eyes and her voice faded out, Briar Rose looked at her with understanding, regret, and tenderness. "You truly are a heroine, Lady Virginia," she said at last. "Not only for what you have done for our Kingdoms, but also for what you had to sacrifice to achieve it. It does not surprise me in the least that it is by your hand that the prince who could kiss me awake found his way to me."

Virginia did not know what to say to that, so all she could do was smile and squeeze the princess's hand back. Silently asking for forgiveness for misjudging Briar Rose, she looked at Colin. "Thank you...I'm just glad we could help. It's always a good deed to help further Happy Ever After." Nevermind that both she and Wolf had their doubts about the Piper or that their motive in coming to the castle had not been pure. Now she knew they had done the right thing.

Before any of them could say more, a loud trumpet blast echoed in the ballroom, and all eyes turned toward the walnut doors at the back of the room. Beside them stood a page bearing a scroll—perhaps even the same one they had seen asleep in the throne room. "All rise and pay homage to the noble sovereigns of the Kingdom, brave King Arundel and wise Queen Rapunzel!"

Everyone who was seated rose to their feet, and all the guests applauded wholeheartedly as the doors opened, allowing the monarchs to stride into the room along a crimson carpet leading to the thrones. Virginia joined Briar Rose in curtsying while Wolf and Colin bowed, the same motions echoed throughout the chamber as the rulers passed.

When the king and queen stood on the dais, Arundel raised a hand for silence. "This will take but a moment, my faithful subjects," he assured them. After all were quiet, he began. "We are here on this most august occasion to celebrate the removal of an insidious curse from our fair land, the rescue of our princess from an endless sleep, her betrothal to the prince who saved her, and the presence of two heroes of the Kingdoms. Let it be known as of this moment that Prince Colin, the Pied Piper, and the Princess Briar Rose are officially affianced, and furthermore that this day shall be remembered as a national holiday!"

Applause followed this announcement.

"Now that that has been settled," the king went on, smiling, "let us begin dining on this feast!"

Virginia had hoped to find some out-of-the-way seats where she and Wolf could stay out of the limelight, but to her embarrassment all four royals insisted they sit at the head of the central table, beside them. Trying to avoid all the awed looks turned in their direction, she busied herself with unfolding her linen napkin, even as she noticed how extremely expensive all the tableware was—crystal goblets, silver utensils, golden serving bowls and plates of the finest porcelain. She was almost afraid to handle anything.

But soon the doors to the kitchens opened, allowing the mouth-watering scents of the meal to waft in, and then the cooks and waiters entered and began setting out the dishes, and she forgot all about the place settings. She had never seen so much food in her life, not even at Wendell's banquet after the award ceremony. She counted at least five different meats—lamb, turkey, sirloin steak, ham, and pheasant—every style of potato she knew of; several varieties of fish; bowls of fruits and vegetables, both familiar and strange; baskets of steaming buttered rolls; stews and soups and gravies of every thickness and ingredient; more salads, candied yams, fresh juicy corn; and so many cakes, puddings, pies, and pastries that Virginia's stomach growled at the sight.

Between the long trek from the Fourth Kingdom and the incredible appetite the pregnancy had bestowed on her, Virginia ate far more at that one banquet than she had ever eaten in her life. There was barely time for her to speak between mouthfuls, but she did manage to thank both the cooks and her hosts. The only time she paused to take stock was when, in the midst of eating a salad, she was confronted by a collection of thick white roots and fresh green leaves, a vegetable she had never eaten before but that was so delicious she simply had to have more. As she took another plate, she recalled this was the same plant she had seen growing in abundance out the window of the tower.

"Wolf, what is this?" she mumbled.

He looked up only momentarily from the rack of lamb he was devouring with groans and moans of pleasure. "Rampion, I believe."

Something about that name rang a bell, and as she glanced down the table at Queen Rapunzel, it suddenly came to her. In the old Grimm fairy tale, rampion had been the vegetable Rapunzel's mother had longed for so badly that her husband had had to steal some from the garden of a witch—who caught him and demanded Rapunzel in exchange. Apparently the queen and all in her kingdom had an affinity for rampion as a result.

Eventually, after two hours, the banquet concluded, washed down with a wine so rich Virginia had to take sips no matter how much she longed to gulp it down. She marveled at how such a spread could have been produced by the barren wastes she had traveled over the last two days, how the magic had completely restored it.

As the guests began pushing back their chairs and conversing once again, music trilled and rippled through the air from the other end of the hall where the orchestra played, announcing the onset of the dance. A pageantry of color and motion soon developed as lords and ladies, dukes and duchesses, dignitaries and ambassadors of every stripe and mien took to the floor and entered the intricate patterns of a dance Virginia didn't know.

For a while she and Wolf had to wait until the music changed to a dance Virginia knew, but she didn't mind, as she was still recovering from the enormous meal. When a waltz's stately music filled the air, she took Wolf's hand and led him out onto the floor to join the others, and to her pleasure and surprise he was a graceful, talented, and wonderful dancer. She'd always suspected he might be, considering how lithe and svelte his frame was, but she'd rather thought he wouldn't have had much chance to learn the steps when in prison or wandering the wilds. Perhaps his aunt or his mother taught him when he was younger.

On and on they danced, taking rests every hour or so but always returning later, for Virginia could not get enough of being in the protective circle of Wolf's arms, leaning against his warm, strong chest, resting her head on his shoulder, or listening to him whisper sweet nothings in her ear. The only time their romantic embrace was interrupted was when the two of them danced past Colin and Briar Rose, and she inclined her head to listen to their conversation.

"Colin...I cannot stress how deeply I treasure your company, how grateful I am to you for your arrival here, how much I am growing to love you and your gentle, tender ways." The princess paused, whirling about on the dance floor, then came back into the Piper's arms. "But there is one thing I would ask that you do for me, if not before we marry, then after."

"And what is that, my love?" Colin asked, devotion and desire mingling in his gaze. "You know I would do anything for you."

"Please...if you do not wish to aggravate and annoy me for the rest of our days together, do something about your arrogance, would you? I simply cannot abide it. You are handsome, intelligent, and good-hearted, but you are not God's gift to women and the world." Briar Rose's lips twitched into a smirk, showing she was teasing Colin...mostly.

The Piper blinked, clearly stunned at how Beauty had been able to see so clearly through his actions and words when only knowing him for a little over a day. Then he caught Virginia looking, blushed, and chuckled before guiding Briar Rose back into the steps of the dance, away across the floor. She didn't hear his answer, but she had a pretty good idea what it was going to be.

"Well," Virginia said to Wolf, smirking herself. "I'd say she's the one for him after all."

"Was there ever any doubt?" Wolf chuckled and nuzzled her cheek before once more launching them into a sweeping arc across the floor.

She thought about that as they continued dancing, and then something that had eluded her before burst into her mind, something so obvious she couldn't believe she'd missed it. Eight days ago—had it really been so short a time?—the Piper had summoned her to his cave in the mountains of the Second Kingdom, and they had all assumed the pipe's spell had malfunctioned, or brought Virginia only because, as Wolf had joked, she would make a good mate for anyone. But what if the pipe had known that by coming with Virginia, Colin would find his true love in the course of the journey?

"Destiny makes fools of us all," she murmured.

"What was that, my love?" Wolf kissed her earlobe.

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

Late in the evening Wolf and Virginia finally retired from the dance floor and took seats along the side of the hall, sipping champagne and watching the other guests. It had been a wonderful night, better than Virginia could have dreamed, and she was growing sleepy, on the verge of calling it a night and asking Wolf to carry her upstairs to her room when a servant beckoned to her. Curious, she told Wolf she would return shortly and went to see what the servant wanted.

"Her Majesty wishes to speak with you," the man said deferentially when they were relatively alone.

She blinked. "Her Majesty? As in the queen? Queen Rapunzel?"

"That is she. She says there is something of grave importance she must tell you tonight, before you leave in the morn for...the dragon's cave." The servant made a face that was part disgust, part fear.

Flustered, confused, and intrigued all at once, Virginia asked no more questions as the servant led her to the dais where Rapunzel sat alone, watching the festivities. Her husband was out on the dance floor, performing the obligatory duty of escorting various ladies and courtiers, but the queen seemed content to remain where she was. Perhaps, Virginia thought with her usual practicality, she simply could not dance with such extraordinary hair weighing her down. And if it happened to fall to the floor and be trodden upon...

Wincing as she remembered what her scalp had felt like after the Huntsman stepped on her hair, she approached the queen and tried not to feel nervous. She failed. "Your Majesty wished to see me?"

Rapunzel nodded slowly, respectfully, and gestured to the chair where Briar Rose had sat earlier. "Yes, I did, Lady Virginia. Please sit down. And try to set yourself at ease, my dear. I may have a title, but I am no more nor less than you are...a woman who finds herself in amazing circumstances and must take advantage of them in order to achieve her destiny." She smiled kindly.

Carefully Virginia sat and looked up at her, blushing. "Am I that obvious?"

The queen laughed softly and nodded, but soon returned to her serious expression. "Virginia, my daughter has told me of you and your past adventures, and your consort as well as Prince Colin have explained your current quest and what it is you seek. That is why I have asked to speak with you, because it is only through me that you will find your way."

Sitting up straight, Virginia could not hold back her excitement. "Do you mean you know where the dragon is?"

"Yes, I do." Rapunzel held up a cautionary hand. "But before I tell you how to find him, there is something you must hear."

Virginia sat back and let her shoulders slump. "More riddles?" she grumbled in spite of herself.

"No. Only advice." Rapunzel gazed out across the interweaving couples on the dance floor, but her eyes were not focused on them, seeing something else beyond them. "How well do you know the story of my life, Lady Virginia?"

She blinked at the seeming change of subject. "Fairly well," she replied guardedly. "It's been a long time since I heard it, but I think I remember the gist."

The queen returned her gaze to Virginia. "There is one part in particular I wish to draw your attention to, so I shall refresh your memory. Do you remember what happened to my husband, the prince, after the witch caught him in the tower, using my shorn locks of hair to lure him inside?"

Virginia concentrated. "Um...he jumped out the window, didn't he?"

Rapunzel nodded. "He did. And he landed amongst brambles, their thorns scratching his eyes and blinding him."

Virginia had forgotten that part, and said so. Rapunzel looked at her without surprise. "Most people do...few wish to recall the trials and tribulations of the Five Women Who Changed History, only their happiness and love. But what few also understand is that it is those very trials and tribulations that make the happiness and love possible. If we did not learn the difference, how could we appreciate our Happy Ever After? And if we did not obtain wisdom through suffering, how could we teach future generations the right way to live?" She shook her head.

"Each of us had to learn a different lesson, you know," Rapunzel confided. "Red Riding Hood had to learn when to trust and when not to; Gretel had to learn to be brave; Cinderella had to learn humility and that whatever her outward appearance, she was beautiful inside; Snow White had to relinquish her pride and abandon obedience to the will of others." The queen paused, and her voice became soft and solemn. "And I...I had to learn to see truth."

Leaning forward to hear her speak, Virginia found her words as compelling as Snow White's had been. "What do you mean? What truth?"

Rapunzel sighed. "The greatest truth of all...the truth of independence. For you see, all of my life I lived alone in a solitary tower, with no one to care for me except for the witch. I knew nothing of my real family or how I came to be where I was. I believed the witch to be my mother, an ugly woman with darkness in her soul but one who truly loved me. I had no idea she was anything other than what she said she was. That was the first lie I had to see through, and Prince Arundel opened my eyes to it when he first climbed my hair to my chamber." Her eyes drifted to where the king stood conversing with Wolf, and tears formed visibly.

"But that was only the beginning. I also had to learn to resist the lie of weakness. Even once my prince had found me, and we had fallen in love and determined he would free me, I still remained in thrall to the witch. I feared her; I felt helpless without her; I believed I could not survive outside my tower. That is why I was so susceptible to her magic, and why I inadvertently gave away the prince's visits, because I so feared the outside world that I felt I had no choice but to seek her protection from it...from Arundel. And that is why, as punishment for my foolishness, he lost his vision."

Virginia frowned thoughtfully. "Obviously there's a lesson there, but what does it have to do with me?"

Rapunzel focused on her, her voice sweet and ethereal, the voice whose songs had once captured the heart of a prince riding through a forest. "The lesson is this, Virginia: Arundel went blind because I was blind, and until I could truly see, until I understood my own strength, until I claimed my independence in the forest where the witch had hidden me, he could not find me and have his eyes healed by the tears of my true love. This blindness is not unique to me. No matter what the age, it never leaves us.

"The Ice Queen suffers from it, believing she must keep all from changing, keep the world the same, or she will fade into uselessness and be forgotten. Red Riding Hood III suffers from it, believing she cannot be wrong lest she be made to perish for her sins. And the dragon suffers from it, believing if he remains hidden in the Sixth Kingdom forever he need never face the prejudice and hatred that has plagued his species for centuries." The queen let the significance of her words sink in before she continued. "And so you must combat this blindness, this insecurity, if you are to convince him to aid your cause."

Trembling internally, Virginia searched for a reply, her hands clasped tightly before her. "But...but...how do I do that?" She believed in herself now, she had ever since speaking with her mother, but that didn't mean she knew what to do, how to go about such a great task.

"It is both easy and difficult at the same time, my dear." Rapunzel smiled sadly. "You must bring about change. Change is what will defeat the inertia of the Ice Queen, change is what will heal the Second Kingdom and Carmine's heart, and change is what will show the dragon a different path. You must talk with him, persuade him, show him that prejudice and hatred are not the driving force of life. Help him to see that if he loves, if he opens his heart and allows himself to care, he won't be hurt. You of all people can teach him this lesson, from what my daughter has told me. You were meant to do this."

"But why me?" Virginia asked plaintively. "I still don't understand...you, Snow White, my mother, you've all said I have to be the one, but why? What makes me so special?"

Rapunzel eyed her assessingly, then said, "Because you understand this blindness. You have been blind to your own worth for so long...and just as important, you have been blind to your heritage."

"My heritage?" Her distress faded into puzzlement. "You mean that the Evil Queen was—?"

"No, no, not that," the queen interrupted. "Your father."

Virginia paused, giving Rapunzel a long, slow, skeptical look. "Dad?"

"Do not underestimate what a parent can give to you, Virginia...even without knowing they are doing it." The queen reached out to take her hand. "You are a Lewis, are you not?"

Slowly she nodded.

Rapunzel sat back triumphantly. "I thought so! Then all is explained." At Virginia's confused look, she continued. "I am not without my resources, Virginia. One of the few objects of magic I was able to obtain from the witch when Arundel and I escaped the forest was an oracle, a sort of crystal ball that can see other places, far from here. And that includes your world, my dear. I have seen the Tenth Kingdom, long ago, before the curse was cast on my realm. And I know the lineage of your family."

Virginia felt her knees go weak. Somehow she had a feeling Rapunzel was not about to reveal she came from a long line of waitresses and inventors.

"In telling me the story of your first adventure in the Kingdoms, my daughter mentioned that you came here by way of a Traveling mirror that had been buried in the cellar of the Snow White Memorial Prison. Were you aware that the prison was once a castle, Castle Dur, owned by the House of Charming?"

"Charming...as in Prince Charming? Snow White's husband?"

Rapunzel nodded. "It belonged to a nobleman who had one daughter. I will not delve into her tale because it would take too long. Suffice it to say she loved one man but was compelled to marry another, and wished to flee her life, to escape her fate. The manner in which she escaped was by way of the Traveling mirror, which had been a gift for her wedding. She came to your world, just over one hundred years ago. No one knows what happened to her...except for me. At the time of her disappearance, I was curious as to her whereabouts, so I used the oracle and it showed me what occurred. She met a man there and married him. His name was Geoffrey Lewis."

"What? Geoffrey...Great-Grandpa Lewis?" It couldn't be true, it just couldn't. "No, no...it can't be...what was her name? Tell me!" Maybe there was more than one Lewis with that name...

"Lady Celeste."

Once again Virginia felt her world spiral apart, dissolving and reforming in a new pattern. Celeste...that had been her great-grandmother's name. And now she recalled the stories Tony used to tell her when she was a girl...of how his grandfather had found his grandmother wandering in Central Park with no money or food and only the clothes on her back. She and her father used to laugh about it, they never believed it. Great-Grandpa Lewis was prone to telling tall tales, and before he died he was quite senile. It made for a good joke and nothing more...but now...

_Central Park. Central Park! Where the mirror opens... _

Rapunzel waited for her to come to terms with it, with all the ramifications, and then she said, "You see now why you are so important...why it is you are destined to be our heroine. It is not simply that you are the daughter of Queen Lydia's successor. It is that you are descended from the House of Charming...you are meant to bring Happy Ever After back to the Nine Kingdoms. You began in the Fourth Kingdom. You have continued your work here in the Sixth. Now the Second and the Eighth lie ahead of you. You must not fail us. It is your duty."

Virginia felt like melting through the chair into the floor. Never before had she felt such a burden placed on her. It had been bad enough when Snow White told her in the ice cavern above the falls that Wendell was counting on her to save his kingdom. It was bad enough when Snow White told her again, in her dream, that she was the one who had to appeal to the dragon to stop the Ice Queen.

But now...now she knew that she did have a destiny stretching way back in time, that endless generations counted on her, that the nobility she had only recently discovered flowed in Wolf's veins flowed in hers as well, and that because of it she was expected to set right all that had gone wrong. Here, at last, was the true reason why she and Tony had stumbled through the portal into the middle of a fairy tale. And now that she understood it, she wished she didn't.

The queen gazed at her with intense sympathy, and despite the fact that she was the one who had unveiled this shocking truth, Virginia felt comforted and soothed by that gaze.

Finally, she began to accept what she had heard. And as she did, Rapunzel smiled. "Now you can see truth, my dear. And you can impart it to others. You are ready for what awaits you. Shall I tell you now where you must go to complete your destiny?"

Mutely Virginia nodded. How could she do anything else?

Gently then, with precise words, as the dancers and music and colors continued to whirl around them in the beautiful ballroom, Queen Rapunzel told her how to find the dragon.

* * *

With a weary sigh, Virginia leaned back into the soft velvety seat of the carriage and tried not to think about what lay ahead of her. Outside the window, the morning sunlight bathed the land in warmth, illuminating fields of wheat and corn, distant mountain peaks, gentle rolling hills, plains of endless grass, and a castle several miles away, perched on a cliff overlooking a bustling village. Slowly she shook her head as she gazed at the view, at what had been dead and buried and enchanted for eighty years—at what would still be a ruin if Colin had not kissed Briar Rose awake.

Glancing out the other window, she saw a gently sloping rise descending to a shining white beach lining the shore, where churning combers rolled and swelled on the ocean before crashing relentlessly on the land. The driver was following the coast, as ordered, bearing her ever southward in the search for the dragon.

She sighed. It was now the second day of her travels. She had slept the previous night at a roadside hostel, given the best room in the house by the fussy, matronly hostess, who seemed quite excited by the prospect of having such a fine lady and heroine stay in her establishment. Virginia had been polite and grateful, of course, but her mind had been only on sleep, on a soft bed instead of the rather hard seats of the carriage, on a room where all would be quiet and peaceful without the endless creaking of the traces, the clopping of hooves, and the nickering of the horses. She was also glad to escape the thick, choking dust, both that billowing up from the roadway and that which coated the inside of the carriage. The stablehands had swept it clean as well as they could, but eighty years' worth of dust was rather hard to eliminate.

On the other hand, she had not enjoyed the emptiness and loneliness of her room, of sleeping in a bed without Wolf at her side. It was true that back at the castle he had not slept in her chamber either, but at least there she had known he was nearby, that if she needed him he would come running in an instant. Here she was far away from him. But, she chided herself, it was by her own choice, and she knew it was the best course of action however her heart felt.

Wolf had protested vehemently, of course, arguing and insisting and finally begging to be brought along, but Virginia had put her foot down. She was not going to risk his life, not so soon after the ogre incident. Her declaration of independence in the fox burrow was fresh in her mind, and so was the constant assurances from Snow White, her mother, and now Rapunzel that she was the one who could make the dragon see reason. Nowhere in there was Wolf mentioned. His presence might hamper the mission; it might even make it impossible. At the very least, the dragon might see him as a threat, and she was afraid he would be like the one that killed the Seven Dwarves, the one who had "flamed first and asked questions later".

What had finally convinced him to stay behind was when she informed him of the shocking secret, that she was a descendant of the House of Charming, and so it was her destiny to seek the dragon out alone in order to set right the wrongs of the past. Wolf had been flabbergasted, but had accepted it readily. She envied him that childlike understanding of the world. She also envied him his unwavering obedience to destiny. Upon realizing that she now possessed the rank and power of a royal, he had deferred to her instantly.

It didn't seem to matter that he too was a prince; the instinct to relinquish dominance to her was ingrained, and as a result, he would follow any order she gave. Virginia found this very disconcerting, even if it did help her win the argument, because she was unaccustomed to seeing Wolf so docile and willing to please, especially when it came to protecting her. Perhaps, too, he was also remembering how she had reacted to being smothered, but even so...it was strange.

Virginia ran her hand over the carriage seat and fixed her gaze on the mass of white, puffball clouds piled high in the sky over the western sea. That wasn't the half of the strangeness. She was reminded of her almost despairing complaint to her father, that she had always wanted her life to be a fairy tale and it had become one. If only she'd known. Now she was a princess, a relative of the fabled Prince Charming she had always thought was just a myth, or an idealized romantic construct—she was even a long-lost cousin of Wendell's! And worse, she was now expected to fulfill a monumental quest, to take up the mantle of her ancestress and make her proud by saving the Kingdoms.

She didn't know why this bothered her so, why it was so hard to accept. It was not like she was new to the idea of unfair expectations. All of her life, ever since she was old enough to understand, she'd been expected to do difficult things—to earn the highest grades, to graduate at the top of her class, to become a college-educated scholar, to get a job, to earn her keep, to become someone successful and worthwhile in the world, to take care of her father, to live up to her grandmother's dreams.

But no, she realized she did indeed know why this new burden bothered her. It was because it was so different from all the others she had previously shouldered. When she went to school, when she worked, when she took care of the household, the only ones affected by her choices, by her successes and failures, had been herself, Tony, and sometimes her grandmother. No one else could be hurt. But here...here the consequences of her actions would be immense. Here, if she failed, countless people she had never met would suffer, would lose the chance to be happy, would die. And all those who had come before her would see their sacrifices come to nothing. It was a daunting prospect.

Yet...at the same time, there was one thing that all of her burdens had in common, something that ultimately made it possible for her to accept her situation. It was that, in the end, she had no choice, it was not a request but a duty. Not because someone simply told her this was the way it had to be—if that was the case, she would simply walk away, destiny be damned. No, it was because her heart insisted this duty be carried out. Once, not too long ago, she had been uncaring, selfish, wrapped up in her own world—cold, as Snow White had put it.

But ever since Wolf opened up her heart, ever since she allowed herself to care and love someone other than herself, her world had expanded. Now she cared what happened to other people. She didn't want them to suffer. The ethic Tony had always espoused (even if he had never seemed to follow it), of a caring society where people did things for each other, was now her dream. No longer was it enough for her to just look out for number one. Others were affected by her actions or lack thereof.

To abandon her heritage, her destiny, simply because she was scared, or didn't feel like it, or didn't care what happened to the Kingdoms...that was wrong. Now she understood. She had always thought royals and other titled nobility were useless, elitist and arrogant, with only the right of birth to determine what respect they received. But now she knew that was wrong—along with the respect and riches and prestige came responsibility, duty.

Kings and queens (and princesses) might seem to be only absolutist tyrants, but those with good hearts and consciences knew that their position was only worth as much as their motivations. That the reason they were to be revered and respected was not because of their wealth and power, but because of what they could—and should—do with it.

It was the only way she could ever accept being a member of the upper crust, and it was certainly true now. She was a princess, and as such it was expected that she do all in her power to protect those she ruled. True royals knew that they served the people, not the other way around. Wendell had not known that, he'd had to learn it by being transformed into a dog. But she knew it, she felt the obligation. That was why she had to succeed, why she had to fulfill her destiny—not because someone told her to, but because it was her responsibility. Because she had the opportunity and courage and power to do it. And because, frankly, she wouldn't trust anyone else to do it for her.

Virginia smiled wryly. Who would have thought she would end up like this...thinking and feeling and believing things that ran the gamut from impossible, to fantastical, to diametrically oppositional. But despite all the change and confusion and stress, she wouldn't have it any other way. Because now, with the blessing of hindsight, she saw what kind of person she had been before coming to the Nine Kingdoms...and she hated that person. She wanted nothing to do with her. She was an unhappy person, but only because she had not deserved happiness and in fact drove it from her. But now all that had changed forever.

Finally feeling at peace with herself and her future, she settled back into the cushions again and tried to enjoy the ride.

Around noon, the carriage arrived at the last hostel, on the far southwestern coast of the Sixth Kingdom, and the driver brought them to a halt in the flagstoned courtyard. Climbing down from the seat, he opened the door and held out a hand for Virginia to disembark. "Here we are, milady. This is the furthest we can go by coach. From here on, the road is far too rough." He pointed past the hostel, where the road angled eastward to follow the coastline, his finger indicating another fork, faint and rugged, that descended to the west. "That is the path that will take you to the dragon's lair."

"I know," Virginia said with a touch of impatience; she remembered quite clearly Rapunzel's directions.

The coachman paused, then looked up at her with a mixture of solemnity and trepidation, his young earnest face uncertain. "Are...are you sure you're going down there, milady? And all alone? I...if you want someone to go with you..." He swallowed hard, but looked at her bravely.

Virginia smiled, touched by his concern. "I really do have to go down there. And no, I have to go alone." She paused, glancing at the carriage. "If I succeed, I may not be returning to the castle the same way. And if I fail...I won't be returning at all."

He nodded, gulping visibly. "Understood. You won't be needing the carriage, then. But forgive me if I stay here at the hostel...just in case. And so I can find out how it all turns out."

She chuckled, resting a hand on his shoulder. "That'll be fine. But don't wait too long, I'm sure you're needed back at the castle."

He waved the matter aside, blushing.

As he went off to stable the horses and fetch a meal, Virginia took stock, breathed deeply, and set off along the narrow roadway.

After only ten minutes or so, the hostel disappeared from view, and she found herself incredibly alone. Nervous, she increased her pace, following the winds and bends of the path, descending in angles across the landscape. Soon the coast became even more rugged and barren, rocks and stunted trees rising above the path to hem her in. Passing under an arch of stone, she emerged onto a very narrow ledge, the southern side of the path falling away into a sheer cliff, making her feel even more vulnerable and exposed. Far below, she could see the waves crashing and foaming on jagged rocks. The only vegetation now was withered and dying, clinging to life, and much of it seemed to be coated with ash and scorch marks. The sign of the dragon.

Gradually the crashing of the waves became more insistent, louder, shaking the base of the cliff until the entire rock face trembled and rumbled ominously. Now and then Virginia had to stop and hold out both arms to stay upright. She was extremely glad she no longer wore the fancy gown from the ball but instead a simple, loose summer dress of the palest pink with matching slippers. The etiquette master in Rapunzel's court had been appalled at her choice, claiming she must wear something more befitting her rank, but she had not relished the idea of attracting undue attention from the villagers with her regal attire, nor had she wanted to ruin the beautiful dress with sweat and dirt. And now she had a third reason to bolster her choice, the need for quick movement and light weight.

Finally, about halfway down the cliff, she rounded a bend and was confronted by an enormous cavern, looking like nothing less than a gigantic round throat tunneling back into the rock. The broad, rounded shelf fronting it was littered with bones and skulls, mostly of animals, but she did see a few humans among them. The cave itself gave off a great heat and a smell like burning brimstone, as if it were an entrance to Dante's Hell, and it took all her willpower not to abandon hope.

The closer she stepped, the hotter it became, until she felt faint and had to stop, leaning against a dead cottonwood tree and fanning herself. When she felt ready to go on, she brushed back her limp hair and precariously picked her way forward, cautiously skirting loose rock and openings in the ground that might be steam vents. After agonizing minutes of progress, she took a deep breath and stepped inside the cave.

For the first hundred yards or so the light of day still penetrated the gloom, and she was able to see without much trouble. But eventually the light faded, and she was left in twilight, then darkness. She waited for her eyes to adjust, but there was not much improvement on her vision. With hands outstretched, she carefully followed the unseen floor, hoping there were no dropoffs or ledges or holes that could end her quest very quickly. Her steps were tentative, her breathing slow and shallow, her eyes wide.

Time seemed to inch forward, and the more minutes passed, the more frightened and distressed she became. Somewhere in this cave was a dragon, a firebreathing monster that could flame and devour her in seconds. And she was walking right into his lair. For a moment she regretted her choice in not bringing Wolf along for protection, she longed to have his strong hand to hold onto. Even the coachman would be better than nothing.

The cave seemed to go on and on, with no end in sight, as if it burrowed into the core of the earth. But it was not empty. Somewhere ahead in the blackness she could hear sounds, faint but unmistakable—a soft hissing, too regular and rhythmic to be a vent; the occasional crunch of rock underneath something ponderously heavy; the rough scraping of scales against each other; even a low growl barely audible above the crashing of the waves outside.

And the heat was growing stronger, worse than the day a few years ago on vacation in Arizona when she and her father had been stranded in the desert for two hours, waiting for a tow truck to come and fetch their stalled car. It was worse than a tropical rain forest, for there was also intense humidity in the air, water vapor most likely condensed from the dragon's breath, a natural heat exchanger like a dog's panting. It approached the heat of what she imagined a lava tube would feel like.

Something moved again in the darkness, and she froze, paralyzed by fear. Another growl came, much louder and clearer, and she knew the dragon could not be far ahead. If she did not announce herself now, she would be flamed for certain. Weakly she cleared her throat, summoning up all the steel she could inside. But when she spoke, it was a plaintive wail, like a whimpering child. "Hello? Is anyone there? I...I don't mean you any harm...and I don't wish to disturb you, sir...but...I need your help. Desperately."

There was a very long silence. The breathing continued, stentorian and even, not showing any rising rapidity to indicate an imminent ball of fire, or even an arousal of interest. Then, finally, when she had just decided to speak again, a voice came to her, as from the depths of an oubliette—echoing, sullen, and disdainful, so profoundly low in the bass registers that she almost had trouble hearing some of the words.

"Who art thou?" it rumbled. "And why is it I should deign to hearken unto thy pitiful words, rather than dispense with thee forthwith, crunching thy bones and rending thine incinerated flesh as I have elected to do with all other trespassers on my demesnes?"

Again came the sound of scraping scales and slithering flesh, and then Virginia had to bite back a shriek of horror. Only a few feet away, a part of the darkness seemed to detach itself from the rest and undulate forward, approaching with the casual nonchalance of a predator that knows its prey cannot escape. _It had been right in front of her the whole time!_

Even as she struggled with this mind-numbing thought, the dragon slid closer, closer, rearing up above her, an impenetrable wall of muscle and scaled flesh. Two colossal feet splayed before and below the great bands of interlacing sinew that formed his chest, their claws wicked-looking sickles that were each longer than she was tall...tapping impatiently on the stone floor.

Above that, the dragon's shoulders and upper forelegs bulged with tremendous muscles, bunching and swelling beneath the armored hide, which was a deep and lustrous ebony. Behind and above him, his enormous wings curled and uncurled, unable to fully spread in the confines of the cave, but she could see they were as immense as sails, waving like a river of ink between the thick and rippling struts, each of which was tipped with a long yet massive razor-sharp claw, also of ebony.

Then, from somewhere higher still, the dragon's breath hissed again, and fire began to lick and flicker about, not a gout of flame but only a few tendrils, just enough to cast light on the scene and make it even more terrifyingly clear. And slowly, very slowly, Virginia lifted her head, tilted it back, gazing along the long, rigid, mighty neck that arched above her...looked up...and up...and up...

* * *

(A/N: The story Rapunzel tells Virginia about her past is told in full in a short prequel fic I wrote called "The Other Side of the Mirror" which is also posted on Kingdoms Press. If you like I can upload it now as well, or after this fic is fully uploaded. It's not necessary to understand Last Dragon [save for some otherwise cryptic references which will appear in the next chapter], but some of you might appreciate the information, or the ambiance since it is written in the style of an old fairy tale. Anyway, R/R!)


	17. Sixteen: Common Bonds

**Sixteen**: Common Bonds

Along the rim of the western horizon, far far distant, the blazing orb of the sun rested like an enormous bonfire, shimmering and pulsing with a ruddy heat as if something or someone within its sight had filled it with a raging, towering anger. The dying light cast a bloody crimson across the landscape of the Sixth Kingdom, as if all of it had been set aflame, and at the coast, the waves of the sea were similarly ensanguined. Miles away, tiny at this distance, dolphins and narwhals breached the surface and plunged back into the surf, adding to the foam of the churning water as it rolled and undulated toward the shore.

To the east, atop the battlements of Queen Rapunzel's castle, Wolf leaned against the stone balustrade of the allure, gazing into the sunset pensively and worriedly. He had sought the solitude of this place, the highest he could climb save for the single tower spearing above him that had held the bier of the Sleeping Beauty for eighty years. And now he fixed his eyes on the west, his mood reflecting the fiery hues of the sky as he watched the march of the hours, trying not to think of the one thing that consumed his mind.

Virginia.

Gritting his teeth, he slammed one fist down on the battlement and growled under his breath. He should never have let her go to the dragon's den alone, never! He had promised her he would, of course, but her safety was so incredibly important to him, nothing else mattered. He had seriously considered following her in secret, keeping a close watch on her trail as he had after Kissing Town, keeping at a distance but always near enough to swoop in and rescue her from the jaws of death should the situation demand it.

After all, she had never known he was there as she scaled Dragon Mountain, as she penetrated the mines, emerged near Snow White Falls, and entered the Royal Estate. The Dwarves, caught up in the tragedy of their broken mirrors and their search for the trespassers, had not seen him. The Huntsman with all his skill had not detected his presence, and the three Trolls had been so drunk and preoccupied with singing that ridiculous song they must have picked up in Virginia's world that they wouldn't have noticed if he'd walked right up to them and snatched their weapons out from under their noses. True, they'd managed to capture Virginia and Tony before he could stop them, but the New Yorkers had escaped on their own, and Wolf had been able to save the day in the swamp.

So now he had seen no reason why he should not follow Virginia again, just to err on the side of caution. He'd even considered bribing the coachman into letting him take his place in disguise. Then he truly could have kept a close eye on her. But something had stopped him—not only the fact that he had given her his word, but the fact that she had impressed upon him so vigorously her independence back when they were arguing in the fox burrow.

She had insisted he stop smothering her, that his overprotection was getting on her nerves. He had to admit it was rather unfair of him to treat her the same way she had treated him in Little Lamb Village and not expect to be chastised for it. And even though she had sworn to him her love and promised to marry him at the end of their quest, he was not about to threaten their reconciliation with his dominant need to flex his figurative muscles. So instead he had contented himself with paying the coachman a few gold Wendells to look out for Virginia and ensure her safety, hoping that his mate's clever wits and the aegis of destiny would be enough to protect her should things go awry.

That was another reason he'd given in to her demand. She was a princess now, a princess of the same house from which Wendell was descended, and it was her birthright and honor to be the one who would save the Kingdoms. He would never in his life wish to interfere with that. And in any case, now that she was a princess that changed everything.

Relaxing somewhat, he sighed softly and reached into the inner pocket of his greatcoat, removing something folded and creased many times over. Opening it up to the fading light, he smiled fondly down at the photograph he held in his hand. The lines of the folds formed a perfect square around Virginia's face, as if he had attempted to box her in with them. But—and here he smiled roguishly—she would never be constrained by anything, from prison cells to people's conceptions and expectations.

This was the same photo he had stolen from her and Tony's apartment so long ago, and he had kept it in his breast pocket, close to his heart, ever since. He'd known then that she was special, unique, one in a million. He'd known it from the day he'd first seen her, first _smelt_ her. That was why it didn't surprise him in the least she'd turned out to be a princess. To be sure, her exact lineage was a shock—even though he had learned, like every other child in the Kingdoms, of the mysterious vanishing of Lady Celeste Charming, he'd never connected the mirror in the cellar of the Snow White Memorial Prison with her, let alone Virginia and Tony. But it had to be the truth, Queen Rapunzel would never lie, and it certainly explained a great deal.

And that was also why he had agreed to her decision that he stay behind. He'd let her think he was awed by her newfound heritage, which was only a half-truth. Royalty and the aristocratic elite had never impressed him, from his experience those born to a high position did not deserve to rule, for they knew next to nothing about their subjects, yet expected everyone to bow to them and follow their every whim. Wendell had certainly fulfilled his every non-expectation, only changing his stripes after being forced to spend a month as a nonentitious dog who had to sleep on the ground and whom no one even bothered to notice, let alone obey. And even now Wolf was still not convinced he had entirely learned his lesson. He smirked slightly, thinking not for the first time that in a strange way the Evil Queen had done them all a favor with her spell.

But with Virginia, all the rules were different. Unlike Wendell and Red and the few other royals Wolf had rubbed shoulders with, Virginia actually cared about the lower classes, the wolves of society—literally. Never once had she judged him harshly, at least not for his species, not once that little misunderstanding with her grandmother had been cleared up (and what an amusing and tense confrontation that had been, until he laid on all his wolfly charm, of course). After the life she had lived in the Tenth Kingdom, she understood what it was like to suffer, to want for things, to warrant consideration.

She was real and emotional and gorgeous, not like those other arrogant rulers. He could respect in her what he could not in the others. She was his mate, after all, and he already worshiped her with all his heart, mind, and body. It was only natural he defer to her. And now that she was a princess, he wanted to please her even more. In all honesty, he did have to admit that he was a little put out with her for suddenly being granted high rank and class, but his annoyance had been short-lived. If anyone deserved to be a princess, it was she.

Sighing softly, he stroked his thumb over the cheek of his creamy beloved in the photo, then folded it back up and replaced it in his pocket. There was one more reason he had agreed to stay behind. Two nights ago, the night of the ball, while Virginia had spoken with the queen, he had caught the king's attention and quietly informed Arundel of the escaped prisoner, Red Riding Hood III, and the threat she might pose, particularly since with the breaking of the spell the border was now unobstructed save for the resurrected watchposts.

Wolf did not think Carmine would go so far as to invade, to declare war on the Sixth Kingdom, simply to recapture them all and carry out the sentence against him, but he was not taking any chances. Arundel had promised to send his men out to reconnoiter and seek out whatever was to be discovered, and he had been true to his word.

After throwing propriety to the wind and sneaking into Virginia's chamber to spend a glorious night there involving a bathtub, aphrodisiac perfumes, and very little clothes; after blissfully sleeping in her arms; and after a tearful farewell to her in the morning as she set off to brace the dragon, Wolf had been drawn aside by the royal chamberlain who, with a grave expression, had told him the king wished to see him in his study. And there Arundel had given him the bad news: Carmine had indeed made it back to her kingdom, and by the age of her footprints as determined by the finest tracker in the land, the queen had somehow escaped prior to the destruction of the thorns.

His soldiers had cautiously crossed over to the Second Kingdom and searched for any clues, their journey taking them all the way back to Pumpkin Village, where after the Mayor had gotten over his initial shock at seeing Sixth Kingdom royal guards, he had informed them that Her Majesty had arrived three days ago near sunset with her woeful tale of the travails she had undergone as a prisoner and hostage. A message had been sent to the nearest village, where as luck would have it the commander of the garrison at Incarnadine had still been diligently searching for his sovereign. A carriage had been enlisted to carry Red, and she was even now on her way back to the capital.

Wolf gripped the battlements again nervously, barely resisting the urge to howl his frustration. He had been close, so close—not to revenge, he had meant every word when he promised his father to release that desire from his heart. No, he had been so close to a breakthrough, he had been so close to cracking through Red's walls and finding her weaknesses, her vulnerabilities. Now, now that she was once more in the safety and comfort of her retinue, he was convinced all hope was lost.

Even if the Piper had been telling the truth, even if the contrition and repentance she had reportedly displayed to Colin had been genuine, there was every reason to believe that all their work had been for nothing, that she would revert to form and again dismiss any argument for the honor and worth of wolves. And with her now out of his reach, there was nothing he could do about it. For that reason, he was glad he had stayed behind at the castle. He was no longer needed here in case Carmine could be found, nor did it seem likely she would come back herself with her armies—in that respect, at least, she had told the truth.

But now that he knew he had failed in the task he had set himself, he did not want Virginia to see his distress and self-loathing. He didn't even think he could be of any use to her now against the dragon. Even if she did manage to persuade the dragon by herself and they headed back to face the Ice Queen...even then, by the yardstick of his personal goal to change Carmine's heart, the quest was a failure in his eyes.

So he brooded, alone, on the windswept, lonely castle heights, accompanied only by his guilt and pain, his worries and fears, his wonderings and musings. Elsewhere events moved on without him. Virginia would be facing the dragon at this very moment, and either today or tomorrow Red would arrive at Incarnadine. And only God and Snow White knew what the Ice Queen was up to. Yet all he could do was wait, wait and hope that everything would work out the way destiny foretold.

The creaking of the door to the southwest tower came when Wolf had his head bowed, gazing uninterestedly at the forest treetops below. Turning, assuming it was some curious soldier or one of the painfully discreet and diffidently industrious royal servants come to summon him to the king's presence, he was surprised and annoyed to find it was the Piper.

To his relief Briar Rose was not with him; despite the true love that had rather forcibly removed the aggravating prince from their company, the way she clung to Colin had become something of a disturbing trend that almost made Wolf feel sorry for him. She was beautiful, he supposed, in a princessy sort of way, but no one could compare to his Virginia.

"Ah, there you are, Wolf," Colin said, sighing in satisfaction. "I've been looking for you everywhere. I should have known you'd be out here in the fresh air."

Was he that predictable? Shrugging, Wolf shot the Piper a warning glare and then turned away again. "Oh? And whyever for, princey? I'd think you'd be spending as much time as possible with your fiancée before we head out again to face the Ice Queen."

"That...is part of the reason I wanted to speak with you." The Piper looked rather upset and embarrassed. "I...won't be leaving with you and Virginia when she returns with the dragon."

Wolf blinked and regarded the prince in disbelief, shocked out of his sullen and angry stupor. This he had not expected. The way the young man had insisted back in the mountains on coming along to aid in the quest had made him quite certain Colin would see it through to the end, remaining a constant thorn in Wolf's side.

And, rather uncharitably, Wolf had been certain even the love of Briar Rose would not keep the Piper from the journey, seeing as how he had always been arrogantly thoughtless and selfish the entire trip. But he could see honesty, determination, and regret filled the other man's azure eyes. He meant what he said.

"Oh." Scratching uncomfortably at the back of his neck, Wolf searched for something to say. "I see...that's...that's too bad."

Colin gave him a querulous look, which soon changed to a sardonic and exasperated one. "Oh, come now, Wolf. There's no need to pretend with me. If there's one thing you've always been, it's honest, and I have endeavored to be the same. I know very well that you cannot stand the sight of me, and I'm certain you cannot contain your glee at my decision." He grinned lopsidedly.

In spite of himself Wolf had to smile back. Other men might have held a grudge, or at least been disgruntled or huffy at such obvious dislike on his part, but not Colin. Perhaps, just perhaps, there was more to him than met the eye. "All right, you got me, Piper-boy. I'll be the first to admit that I'm not your biggest supporter, but I do know one thing, Virginia likes you, and she'll be sad to see you go."

"Will she?" the Piper replied sadly, astutely. He half-turned away, his shoulders slumping wearily.

Wolf paused, realized to what he was referring, and had to hold back a growl. Indeed, after what had passed between Virginia and Colin, she might very well be glad to be rid of him. And the more he thought about it, the more incensed he became, until finally he could no longer hold it back. He'd promised Virginia not to hurt Colin, but that didn't mean he couldn't confront him about what had almost happened. And his wolven need to chastise those lower in the pack for challenging his dominance was blazing in his heart.

Still, when he spoke, it was quietly, almost conversationally. "Who knows, Piper-boy. Maybe she will want you around, what with the way she tried to kiss you..."

Colin stiffened visibly, his hands clenching on the balustrade. When he swung about, Wolf was pleased to see horror and fear in his countenance. "So...you do know."

"Oh, yes, princey." He made sure his canines flashed in the light. "Did you really think my mate would keep secrets from me?" He took a menacing step forward.

"No, of course not." The Piper held up his hands placatingly. "I merely had hoped that we could talk this all over together, explain what had happened, so there would be no misunderstandings."

Wolf chucked darkly. "Oh, I understand. I understand quite well what happened. Virginia explained it all."

The blood drained from Colin's face and his knees trembled. He looked as if he were ready to collapse any moment, a marionette whose strings had been cut. Wolf let him stew for five long minutes, relishing every moment of it, as he kept his fangs bared and flashed his golden irises a few times for good measure. Then, just when he thought the prince might be on the verge of fainting or soiling himself, he relented, relaxing back to a normal expression and stance. In an amiable tone of voice, he said, "I understand...that it was not your fault, Colin."

The Piper leaned weakly against the battlement and shuddered, wiping at his suddenly sweaty brow. His expression hovered between terrified and furious. It finally settled into relief. "So...you do not blame me? You're not angry with me?"

Wolf eyed him appraisingly as he considered the question and realized he wasn't, not anymore. For one thing, Virginia had impressed upon him the reasons and feelings behind the kiss-that-never-was, and he and she had already reconciled. While it was true that they still had things to work through, the worst was past them, he believed. Also, with the passage of time he had realized that hating Colin for something this trivial was petty. He had seen what hating Red for so long had done to his heart, it wasn't worth it to do the same thing with the Piper, and there was no comparison between their crimes.

"No, Piper-boy, I don't blame you, and I'm not angry with you—not much, anyway." He smirked. "I just wanted to make sure you knew your place, that's all."

Colin nodded rapidly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. "Oh, believe me, I know it, Wolf! That is why I am leaving your company, I do not wish to be any further hindrance in the quest. You do not need me any more, my magic could never withstand sorcery of the Ice Queen's caliber. And I would sooner die than cause any further strife between you and Virginia." The sincerity in the other's tone was palpable and made Wolf falter in astonishment. Peering closer, he began to wonder anew about Colin. Could he have been wrong about him?

"Well...that's quite charitable of you. I really appreciate it." Wolf paused. "But doesn't the fact you have a fiancée matter too?"

The Piper looked embarrassed all over again and nodded. "Of course, that is the other reason I choose to stay here. She is also the other reason I came to find you. There is...something I have not told Briar Rose, and I was wondering if I could seek your advice on the matter."

Wolf almost choked. Colin was coming to _him_ for relationship advice? He almost laughed, but then thought better of it, the prince seemed rather distraught. And what harm could it to do to humor him? It was the least he could do in return for Colin leaving their lives for good. "All right, lay it on me. I'm all ears, princey. What seems to be the trouble?"

"Well..." The Piper seemed at a loss where to begin. "It concerns what happened at the campfire after you left to rescue Virginia."

Suddenly Wolf was no longer listening half-heartedly. He'd known there was something fishy about that story. "Yes?" he asked guardedly.

Colin clasped his hands and gazed down at them mournfully. "I told you that Carmine tried to persuade me to release her, or even lead her back to the border with my pipe. I did not tell you what method she used. Her final line of defense, her last bastion of hope...was seduction." He flushed heatedly and tugged at the collar of his jacket. "To put it bluntly, she kissed me."

Wolf just about fell off the battlement at that revelation. He'd always suspected Carmine might have a lewd, temptress side to her, a sinfully wanton appetite, but it had never been confirmed. To have it be so now, and with the Piper...it somehow appalled him, in the same vein as some repugnant court scandal. At the same time, he wanted to burst out laughing, but the look of utter misery and seriousness on Colin's face stopped him just in time. "She must have been desperate," he mused aloud.

Somehow Colin failed to notice the insult in this, replying without a trace of sarcasm. "She most certainly was. I have never seen a woman so determined as she was to escape. I rather think she would have gone further if she had believed it would have won me to her point of view...if I had not refused her again, who knows what might have occurred." He shuddered.

"My goodness, princey, whatever did you say to her to cause that?" Wolf was genuinely puzzled and curious; after hearing the Piper's admission, he believed now his tale of what occurred at the camp, the stiffly proper and uptight Colin would never use such a tawdry claim as his excuse unless it were real.

The Piper lifted his face out of shadow so that the setting sun's light bathed his features. In them there was an implacable resolution. "I told her the truth, Wolf. I told her you love Virginia, and that Duncan loved Cerise. I told her to abandon her limited mindset, to realize she was neither saint nor sinner, but human. I told her that if she expected to ever face you, or Virginia, or herself again, if she longed to set right the evils of the past, then she must end the persecution of the wolves and grant you your pardon.

"And that was why she wanted to escape, why she tried to convince me, then seduce me into helping her. Because she could not face you knowing she was wrong. She felt she had no choice but to do as you wished if she wanted to spare her own life. She was convinced she would die for her crimes until I gave her an alternative, to change, to forgive herself and enable others to do so by altering her policies.

"You might very well say that in finishing what you and the Lady Virginia started, I opened and then brought down the barriers of her heart, the same way I used my pipe and then the kiss of true love to separate and later destroy the thorns." He trailed off, an introspective and profound look on his handsome face, as if he had only just understood the significance and symbolism of his actions.

Wolf was no longer amused or skeptical over Colin's words. What he felt was shock, shame, and repentance. All this time, he had believed the Piper to be a worthless butterfly, an ignorant and narcissistic play-Prince on the order of Wendell and his ilk, like his sycophantic courtiers. He had despised the man ever since laying eyes on him, but now, for the first time, he had to admit to himself that the only reasons he had for his opinion was Colin's station in life and the way he had tried to subdue Virginia's will. But Colin had made up for that latter mistake with his aid in the rescue at Incarnadine and in gaining entrance to the Sixth Kingdom.

As for the former reason, Wolf saw now that the Piper was much more than just an arrogant prince. He was a good man. He had no reason to tell Wolf any of this, he would be leaving the company and had no further reason to stay on Wolf's good side. He showed great insight into Carmine's state of mind. If what he had said was the truth, and there was no further reason to doubt it, then he had managed what they had not, appealing successfully to Red's conscience, and he had done so solely because he believed in the justice and morality of it.

He had broken a spell that had trapped hundreds of innocent people for eighty years and saved one of the Five Women Who Changed History. He had resisted the advances of a beautiful woman whom he had come to care for and respect, for the sake of those who had not always treated him kindly. And now he was asking for advice from the one man he knew for certain disliked him, simply because he feared what his moment of weakness might do to his newfound love with the princess.

As all of these new thoughts and epiphanies ran through Wolf's mind, he realized that Colin was speaking again, and tried to focus on his words. "Anyway, Wolf...what I need to know is, what do I tell Briar Rose? You have experience with this, you and Virginia have faced a similar dilemma. And do not be offended by this, but as a wolf you surely have experience with lust and seduction. So...do I tell the princess the truth? Is it even necessary? It happened before I met her...it has no effect whatsoever on my deep love for her...but she might not see it that way..." He shrugged helplessly.

For a moment Wolf was offended, but then it passed as he recalled the numerous shepherdesses who had tempted and enticed him, and not just Sally Peep and the other girls of Little Lamb Village...there had been others before his imprisonment, ones that had succeeded in more than just temptation. He had not told Virginia, of course, because it was only lust, physical pleasure, not love the way it was with her.

But it still made him feel guilty, particularly when he had taken issue with her previous sexual exploits. Of course it was different for males than for females, especially male wolves and half-wolves, but he was rapidly coming to realize that the standards for both genders were the same, or should be. Another reason for him to heal the wounds of their arguing as soon as possible.

But he still had a question to answer. Considering it from all angles, he finally replied as earnestly as he could. "Colin, I really think you'd best let this go. It's true that Virginia and I have survived many obstacles in our relationship, and what happened between you and her wasn't easy, but we've managed to overcome it. And since what you and Briar Rose have is true love, it's possible she'd forgive you. In fact from what I've seen of her, she is a very sophisticated and intelligent young lady.

"But don't take the chance, princey. Something like this comes along only once in a lifetime, believe me, I know! And what she doesn't know can't hurt her. It was just a kiss, nothing more, and it didn't involve your heart in any case. So I'd say, just let it go, Piper-boy." He altered the inflection of his voice as he spoke that final epithet, making it more endearing and affectionate than contemptuous as it had always been.

Colin blinked, then smiled hopefully. "I...I think you are right, Wolf. That is what I shall do. Thank you very much...you have no idea how much you have helped me."

"No, thank you, Colin." Wolf looked at him regretfully, a strange sorrow in his heart. In an odd way, he would miss having the Piper around to needle and jab at with his caustic words.

"For what, Wolf?" Now the prince was clearly confused.

Wolf chuckled. "For a lot of things. For what you did with Carmine. For putting up with me. For helping us escape the dungeon and getting through the thorns." He paused, struggling with what he had to say, what he could no longer avoid. It was hard for him, letting go of his own prejudices and beliefs. Now he had at least an idea why it was so hard to change his aunt's mind. But he knew he had to do it. After all, how could he expect Red to reverse her point of view when he could not do something as simple as give Colin the benefit of the doubt?

For that matter, how could he expect her to change her view of him when he would not change his view of her? True, she had still done so many horrible things to his family, it would take a long time and a lot of concessions and passings of laws before he could ever forgive her. But if even half of what Colin said about her was true, he needed to at least be cautiously optimistic about the future. Perhaps things would be all right after all. Perhaps Red would turn over a new leaf. After all, he had once thought he would never be anything but a filthy animal, and look what Dr. Horovitz and Virginia had done for him. Anything was possible.

Finally he shrugged and extended one hand. "I just wanted to thank you for helping out. And to tell you...I was wrong about you."

For a moment the Piper looked at Wolf's hand as if it were about to sprout fangs and bite him. But then slowly he grasped it and shook it, gently at first, then more firmly. He smiled, a genuine, warm smile. "That...means a great deal to me, Wolf. You may not have realized this, but I had very much wanted your approval, your being a hero of the lands and all."

Wolf raised an eyebrow at this, even as inside he felt more excited and proud than he had in a long time. Someone actually looked up to him, wanted to emulate him! And not just anyone, a human, a _prince!_ After recovering from his surprise, he grinned back. "What can I say, that just goes with the territory these days. And you aren't so bad in the hero department yourself, Colin. I still can't get over how well you play your pipe!" He offered that last observation rather shyly.

Colin gazed at him with a completely straight face and replied, "Indeed. It is not the size of your pipe, it is how you play it."

Wolf threw him a startled look and burst out laughing. As tears came to the corners of his eyes, he gasped out, "You know, princey, you're not so bad after all."

With a rueful expression, the Piper joined him in his laughter, and their mirth lasted for about ten minutes or so, until finally the pain in their sides forced them to desist. After that, the two of them stood in comradely silence, watching as the disk of the sun finally slipped past the horizon, plunging the sea, sky, and land into lavender twilight. As the stars began to come out, Colin shifted restlessly from one foot to the other before he finally spoke. "I wonder how Lady Virginia is faring in her quest."

Sober and worried once more, Wolf tried to keep his voice from breaking. "I don't know, Colin. Huff-puff, I guess we'll have to wait and see."

Glancing aside at him, the Piper looked chastened, and replied almost at once. "I'm certain she's come to no harm, and that she will persuade the dragon and fulfill her destiny. There is nothing she cannot do, now that she believes in herself."

The sky was darkening gradually, and shadows lay heavily over the battlements so that he could no longer see the landscape or his companion's face. But suddenly Wolf was glad he was no longer alone up here, and that it was Colin who was with him. At least he understood how Wolf felt about Virginia, and was similarly worried about her welfare.

Looking once more to the horizon, toward the sea to the southwest where his beloved still had not returned from the dragon's cave, he sighed and murmured softly, just loud enough for the Piper to hear.

"I hope you're right, Colin. I hope you're right..."

* * *

Fire burned and danced near the roof of the cave, and Virginia's eyes were drawn to those crimson and orange tendrils as if hypnotized. They emerged from between titanic teeth at least twice as tall as herself, stained with the soot and ash of countless fiery breaths and filed to incredibly sharp points. There were hundreds of them, so many there seemed more than a mouth could hold, bared in a grimacing snarl that made her blood run cold.

Now and then the jaws parted to allow an enormous, forked, black tongue to slip out between the fangs, as if the dragon were contemplating a choice dinner he had not sampled in decades. Above, smoke roiled up from his flared nostrils, choking and gray, while perched in armored sockets, his baleful eyes blazed like full moons. A gorgeous but menacing head fan spread behind the back of his thick skull, flexing and rippling in the light.

Virginia didn't know how long she stood there, staring upward and frozen in primal fear, but eventually the dragon grew tired of waiting and shifted, startling her into motion. "I...I...I am..." she stuttered, trying to reclaim her voice.

The dragon arched an armored eyebrow sardonically. "Such eloquence. This bodest highly of our encounter. Please, regale me with more of thy syllables, mine ears crave thine efficacy."

Mockery accomplished what destiny and higher purpose could not. Galvanizing her courage, Virginia rose to her full height, such as it was, and forced herself to look the dragon in the eyes. "I am the Lady Virginia, come here on a perilous quest to beseech your aid against an evil so great it threatens all of the Kingdoms."

A vast yawn spread the dragon's fangs even farther, revealing a blackened, cavernous throat, and then he blinked sleepily and smiled slightly. "Ah. Thou art one of their ilk. Now, which noble house dost thou hail from, milady? I must needs determine what is the common courtesy due thy station and birth. As to this evil, how quaint. I wis that the Kingdoms are alway in peril. And how passing strange that thou shouldst come unto me for aid, when the dragons have been assumed the source of evil eterne from time immemorial."

Virginia glared up at him in spite of herself. She had expected the dragon to be recalcitrant, stubborn, even hostile, but this callous disregard, this blatant contempt, made her extremely angry. She had come all this way, been through so many hardships, all for the sake of those she cared about, and now this infernal beast dared to sit in judgment?

"I don't know anything about that," she replied diplomatically, "but this evil can only be defeated by your magic fire, so whatever may have happened in the past, you are needed now. As to my lineage, I am of the House of Charming." She adopted a proud and regal pose, hoping she didn't look too ridiculous.

The dragon's eyes narrowed to slits and the color of his flame changed to an even sootier crimson, while steam rose from his nostrils. "Then thou art either naive or deliberately tempting fate, for thou shouldst know that my kind despiseth the House of White, and its offshoots, for what wast perpetrated against us nearly two hundred years ago. Choose thine answer carefully."

She could see this was definitely going to take a while. "I knew of the enmity between your kind and mine. That is exactly why I hoped this appeal would not fall on deaf ears. After the pain and tragedy of the past, doesn't it behoove us to try and see beyond it? Wouldn't it be better if the two of us could undo the evil, and bring our peoples back together, for the good of all?" Ever since learning of her heritage, Virginia had worried about this possibility, that the dragon would be infuriated by who she was, and the argument she had just proposed was the only one she could think of that might conceivably have any effect.

And it did seem to be working somewhat. The dragon was regarding her with new eyes, frowning thoughtfully, and there no longer seemed so much menace in his gaze. "This is certainly a different approach. Never in all of my years hath a human, let alone a White or a Charming, come unto me offering peace and reconciliation. Alway it hast been threats, guile and craft, superiority and arrogance."

Virginia nodded. "As you can see, I come alone, unarmed, a helpless woman. I wouldn't have done so if I didn't want you to trust me, if my need wasn't great. But it is not just my need, or that of the Kingdoms, it is yours as well."

"Mine?" The dragon blinked, and his smoke curled up questioningly from his muzzle. "I should like to hear how thou camest to that conclusion." Settling more comfortably on the rocky floor of the cave, he brought his hind end about, while his tail deliberately curled around her to trap her within its arc. "I am listening..."

She gulped slowly. If things went wrong, there would be no way for her to escape. And the dragon was quite firmly letting her know she lay in his power, so she would know exactly how precarious her situation was. "Well..." She paused. "May I know your name, before we begin?"

The dragon's jaws snapped shut, and his head fan shivered like a frilled lizard's. "Nay, thou mayest not. No human deserveth to possess the name of a dragon...certainly not when she arrivest begging a favor." The fury left his voice and faded into a yearning, wistful tone. "And...in any case...I no longer deserve to be known by my name. Thou shalt call me...the Last Dragon."

An almost visible wave of sorrow seemed to flow off of the dragon, an atmosphere of inner torment that made Virginia forget her offense at his pompous attitude. Lowering her eyes, she nodded slowly. "Very well...let me tell you the story, Last Dragon. Let me tell you why I have such dire need of you, and why after hearing my tale you will understand how important this is to you, to me, to everyone."

Cautiously, tentatively, for the final time on this quest and the time that held the greatest ramifications, the time that would make all the others count for nothing if it were not as impassioned and persuasive as possible, Virginia related what had brought her to this lonely, isolated cave. She told of the wicked Ice Queen and her malignant spell, of the danger posed to all the Kingdoms, and of the Seeking mirror whose clairvoyant power had identified dragon fire as the only means of breaking the enchantment of winter ice. She even told of her destiny, how Snow White and Rapunzel had both charged her with the task of saving the Kingdoms, and how her ancestry made it her duty to comply.

Launching into her conclusion, she held up her hands imploringly as she fell to her knees on the gritty shale floor. "So I beg you, please help us! We have no one else to turn to, the fate of all the Kingdoms is yours to decide. Destiny calls us both to this battle, and it would be wrong to ignore it, to dismiss it, because of past hatreds and sins. Please, Last Dragon, please...you are our only hope..." She felt ridiculously like Princess Leia, but no other words came to mind, as she gazed up at the dragon's visage.

All throughout her speech, he had listened silently, brooding, but as the threads of her tale spun forth from the loom of destiny, as she unveiled her humble plea and the reasons for it, gradually his expression changed. Emotions raced across it, first intense concentration, then curiosity, then disbelief. There was approval and respect at the honor and prestige being given to dragons, as well as a dark, sinister glare at the mention of the Ice Queen.

Finally he stirred, his scales rasping in the darkness, as the spikes on his tail tapped on the stone. "Thou makest a valid case, Lady Virginia. 'Tis undeniably true that dragons possess the greatest magic in the Kingdoms. Even Queen Lydia couldst never ensorcell us. And the Ice Queen wast wise indeed to wait until nearly all the dragons were vanished from the lands, for our fire canst melt her spells. But...I am afraid I cannot help thee."

"What?" She could not hold back her horrified reaction.

The Last Dragon shook his great head, his pliable lips forming a frown of reproach and mournfulness. "Art thou blind, milady? Dost thou not know of the hatred and prejudice that runneth deep in the hearts of men? I could ne'er emerge from my haven grot, for an I did, an I dared to enter a civilized realm, I would be murdered on sight, no questions proffered."

Virginia breathed slowly, deeply. She had been warned over and over that the dragon would be unwilling, bitter, closed-hearted, and disdainful. But she had held out hope that the urgency of her plight would awaken his conscience quickly. Now she knew she would have to use every power of reason and coercion to complete this task.

"Of course I know how everyone feels," she scoffed. "But don't you think you're exaggerating, just a little? Don't you think that once everyone sees what you've done, that you've rescued them all and saved the Kingdoms from an evil witch, that they would forgive you, or at the very least let you go unhindered?"

A puff of smoke and fire blazed up from his maw and the dragon snorted derisively. "Thou hast a far better opinion of the human race than I, milady. Thou hast never experienced the cruelty and rejection of the Kingdoms as I have. Iwis, an I did as thou askest and aided thy cause, there wouldst be great celebration, divers promises and praises, numerous declarations of forgiveness. But as soon as the danger hath passed, they shall turn on me. I shall be hunted down, slaughtered, or driven once more into hiding. Nothing shall change. Nothing ever changeth." His tone was no longer angry or contemptuous, but listless and empty, a litany he had likely repeated to himself over the centuries.

Virginia felt like tearing her hair out. It was like talking to a brick wall. "No, it doesn't change, and it won't as long as you keep hiding here and pretending the rest of the world doesn't exist!" she snapped. "Do you really think you can hide here forever? If the Ice Queen wins, she will freeze all the lands, and there will be nowhere left for you to live. You'll die."

She was certain that argument would faze the dragon, but he only closed his eyes and let out a soft growl, almost a moan. "What do I care for life? Life hath never granted me anything but pain and suffering. An I am to die from the encroachment of winter perpetual, so be it. I welcome it. Anything is preferable to this endless existence, this petty pace, this baneful vigil for cruel eld to strike me down. And an I do manage to care for my well-being, I can simply soar away from the Kingdoms to other distant lands and escape. I am in no danger, Lady Virginia...none that I do not embrace wholeheartedly."

That she had not expected. To learn the dragon's loneliness and despair were so great he would rather die than face life alone...that he would let the lands wend to their fate because of his terrible life. It was truly tragic. Shivering, she clasped her hands before her chest. "Last Dragon...you can't mean that! There has to be something you can live for! What of destiny? What of being a hero? You could change everything! You could win respect and prestige for your kind again. And what if you aren't really the last? Would you give up on living when there could still be a chance for love and family, a rebirth of the dragons everywhere?"

Once she could never have made such a suggestion, but now that she was before the dragon, she saw more than a demonic creature, a hellspawn, a firebreathing menace. There was a pride in him, a nobility, that bespoke of ageless generations and glorious splendors uncounted. It was that pride that prevented him now from admitting he was wrong, from daring to dream for hope and happiness again, but it was that same pride that could awaken a new sense of purpose in him, if she could but find the way.

Lifting his reptilian head, the dragon gazed down at her arrogantly, but she could see there was a weakening of his resolve, a twitching of his lips, a tightening of his throat tendons as he considered what she had said. Surely the things that made life worthwhile—success, love, children, the accolades of others, the future, greatness—all of these things were something he longed for more than anything.

"Milady...forasmuch as I am grateful to thee for this appeal, for thine attempts to quicken me to new life, I thank thee. No one hath ever done such a thing for me before. No one hath ever cared for a dragon, let alone the species as a whole. But thou knowest not of what thou speakest. Heroism and respect are merely dreams for a dragon, dreams as ephemeral as my smoke. No human wouldst ever dare to laud me for mine efforts on his behalf. Despite thy cogent reasoning, thine indefatigable belief in goodwill and trust, I cannot do as thou askest."

He paused, a dark cloud seeming to pass over his face, and he bared his fangs once again. "I do indeed mean what I say, there is nothing to live for. Destiny is of no moment to me, it hath never done anything for me but engender heartache and agony. And as for being the last..." He ground his teeth furiously. "Even an I were not, I would ne'er seek out another of my kind. I shall never love again...not after the theft of my beloved mate and hatchlings by the odious Kingdoms thou art so keen on my rescuing. Thus nay...nay, milady. I shall never help thee. Thou art a credit to thy race, a gentle soul, a compassionate soul, and I would gladly converse with thee anon, an thou shouldst desire it. But 'tis far beyond my power to heed thy call."

The rumbling voice died away into silence, and for the next several minutes it was all Virginia could do not to collapse in tears. She had failed. Somehow, despite everything riding on this decision, despite the assurances and beliefs of Snow White and her mother, despite everyone who counted on her, she had failed. The dragon was simply too hard-hearted, too trapped within his own walls to see the light of reason and truth. He could help himself, he could escape the trap of his own devising, but he refused to do so. By dwelling on the past he had deprived himself of a future. Deprived all of them of a future.

Wiping away the thick layers of sweat on her brow and neck that had collected from the intense heat of the cavern, Virginia gazed up at the solemn, dour myth brought to life before her, the myth that was such a letdown in reality because of the broken heart and soul that resided within the powerful exterior. And slowly, adamantly, she began to grow unbelievably angry at the Last Dragon.

Rather than concealing her fury, she let it smolder and blaze and flare high inside of her, fueling her determination. She had only one choice left. Back in the throne room in Incarnadine, she had given in to her anger, had used it to bolster the power of her truth so that it shocked through Carmine's prejudice. Ultimately she had failed, but perhaps here she could succeed. If she could tread the line just perfectly, perhaps she could anger the dragon just enough, goad him into agreeing to help without provoking him to flame her...

"Why would I want to come back and talk with you?" she asked archly, bravely. "All I see here is a selfish beast."

The dragon had been curving his tail away to make an exit for her back toward the cave mouth, but it froze in mid-motion, the tip twitching. Slowly his horned head descended toward her level again. "What didst thou say?" he growled.

Trembling, she rose to her feet and balled her fists. Her fear was great, but so was her need. This, she saw, was why she was the ordained heroine of the Kingdoms—because she was too damn stubborn to quit, even when wiser heads might have given up. "I said you're selfish! All you care about is yourself. It doesn't matter to you what will happen to all those innocent people who never once hated or distrusted you. It doesn't matter what Snow White wants, she who even forgave the dragon that started all of this by killing the Seven Dwarves. It doesn't even matter to you that you could remove all tarnish from the dragons' reputation, and restore people's faith in them, and even restore the race.

"All that matters is you staying safe and protected and curled up in a ball in your cave. You're scared, that's what it is. And I don't blame you. I'm scared too. We're all scared. Didn't that occur to you? But we do things anyway, because we have to, because we know there's no one else to do them. That's called bravery. But you're giving in to your fears. That's called cowardice."

A roar of outrage burst from the dragon's throat, followed by a ball of flame that filled the roof of the cavern with light and bathed every inch of the hollow in the rock, every inch of ebony-scaled flesh. But she yelled even louder, loud enough that he could still hear her, because she was in her element now, and she was not about to stop until he heard everything she had to say.

"Roar all you like, Last Dragon, but you won't be able to drown out the truth. The reason you're the last is because of your cowardice. If you dared to fight, if you dared to dream, if you dared to search for others of your kind or for a way to bring change, you could do it. I know you could. I mean, look at you!" She gestured at his enormous, muscled form undulating across the floor. "You've got all that strength and magic at your disposal! You could do anything you put your mind to. And what do you do? You waste it all. You hide, you snivel, you whine and complain. Well, I'm sorry, but I won't let you do it any more."

The dragon stared at her, shocked into silence. Incredulity and wrath and consternation warred in his eyes. "Thou shalt not _let_ me?"

"That's right." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I won't let you, by telling you exactly what you're doing wrong. You are convinced the world hates you, that no one could ever love you, that no one could ever treat you with respect or decency. But how do you know, unless you go out there and find out? And if you don't receive respect, what do you expect after the way you treat everybody else?

"Dragons are supposed to be noble, worthy of admiration, but I don't see much of that here, and that's too bad, when you had so much potential. I just see a selfish creature hiding his head under the sand and refusing to change. Do you think your brethren would be proud of you now? Do you think they'd be glad you are all that's left to represent them in the Kingdoms? I don't think so. And what about your mate and cubs? Would they be proud of you?"

The dragon stared at her, still silent, his flame flickering and dying, his jaw slack and horrified. He had no answer for her, but that was answer enough.

Virginia relented slightly then, injecting sympathy and kindness back into her voice. "I know you're hurting. I know you're still grieving over your losses. But you can't let it incapacitate you. Your mate wouldn't want that. And you seem to think no one else can suffer. I may never have been hated or hunted or called a vile monster like you and your kind have, but I do understand what it's like to be rejected. I didn't know I was a princess until recently. Only nine months ago I was living in another world, on the other side of the Traveling mirror, and I knew nothing of the Kingdoms or anyone in them.

"I lived in a world where the rule was to look out for yourself, to care nothing for others, to do anything you had to and step on anyone you needed to in order to get ahead. And more often than not I was the one getting stepped on. I know what it's like to be rejected for who you are, for where you come from, for what you stand for. I know what it's like to lose loved ones, to think the world doesn't give a damn about you and you should just let it all go to hell. So don't think you can preach to me about experiencing the cruelties of life." She stopped and took a deep breath, shuddering with her emotions, and was stunned to hear the cave was as quiet as a tomb. She looked up.

The dragon stared at her, and he was listening.

"You have to let it go," she said at last, softly. "Forgive yourself for not being there to help your fellow dragons, for not preventing the depravities of humans, for not saving your mate and cubs. And realize that the humans living today should not be punished for what their ancestors did, anymore than you should be. They're not to blame. And if you save them, you can heal the wounds, you can bring change and start everything over again, bring us all together again. I did it, I've changed, I've learned to care. You can too.

"I know it's not easy, but you have to do it sometime. It's the only way you can keep from disappointing all of your ancestors, from becoming truly worthless. Do it for them, if not for me or for destiny, and then you will find a reason to live, a reason to be happy. I don't know what it will be, but it'll happen. And when it does your life will never be the same."

She sighed and then shrugged half-heartedly, adding the final touch. "But if you still can't see that, if you still can't understand what you need to do and how pathetic you'll be if you don't change, fine. I have my own magic. It will be enough to stop the Ice Queen. I don't really need you. No one does. And it's your own fault."

She turned toward the cave entrance and began to stroll out, her shoulders squared proudly. But before she had even gone more than three paces the scaled, serpentine tail of the Last Dragon slammed down in front of her, blocking her escape. Slowly she turned back, afraid of what she would see. She would never apologize for what she had said, it had all come from the heart and she knew it to be true. But she was afraid that once again she had gone too far, and this time it would cost her her life.

Towering above her, the dragon's infuriated visage hung suspended like some frightening African tribal mask, smoke and fire billowing up on either side to highlight every gleaming scale and taut sinew. Beneath, his claws flexed and scraped on the stone floor, creating shrieks more piercing than any chalkboard could. Fire seemed to burn in his eyes as well, a pit of magma rising to explode from the core of the earth and consume her utterly. "How darest thou..." he hissed. "How _darest_ thou..."

Virginia whimpered and closed her eyes, silently wondering what else she could have said or done, how she had been meant to proceed in this confrontation and how she had instead shattered it, ruined it, sealed her own doom. She whispered a fervent prayer, said good-bye to Wolf and her father, apologized to Snow White and her mother...and waited for the end.

But it did not come. The dragon's steaming breath continued to fill the enclosed space until she felt on the verge of heatstroke, her sticky dress clinging to her roasting body. But there were no more words, no more fire, no sounds of motion or attack. Then finally the air rushed past her, and she knew the dragon had just been waiting, biding his time, turning the screw, enjoying his prey's terror. Yet again nothing struck, and finally she dared to open her eyes.

The dragon remained poised where she had last seen him, although the smoke and fire had cleared to allow his face to retreat somewhat into the gloom. But his expression was now one of abject misery, despair...and acceptance.

"How darest thou," he repeated a third time, "speak the truth..."

With a colossal rumbling crash that shook the entire cave and made small rocks tumble from the ceiling, the dragon collapsed on the ground, his head dropping like a dagger about to impale her, and Virginia involuntarily stepped back. But at the last moment the dragon moved, his head coming down in front of her, and his incendiary breath cleared completely, leaving her untouched.

After stilling her heart from the near coronary, she gingerly stepped forward to examine him, still irresistibly afraid but unable to abandon him. As she came within a few feet, she heard a soft sound, barely discernible over the pounding waves at the base of the cliff, and then she realized to her shock that the dragon was weeping! Tears, true tears, were streaming down his cheeks onto the floor, and his expression was pinched and twisted by anguish and pain so ingrained she could not imagine it.

Suddenly understanding for the first time how deeply he must have suffered in life, and how callous her words must have seemed to him, she reached out a hand to gently stroke his muzzle. "I'm sorry...but it had to be said..."

Abruptly his eyes snapped open as he understood intuitively what she was about to do. "NAY! Do not touch me...!"

But it was too late. Virginia's hand brushed the bridge of his nose, just the barest of touches, but it was enough. Without warning a fiery pain lanced up her arm, heat and cold intermixed, and she screamed in agony, stiffening, writhing as she tried to get away. But it was as if her palm had become melded to the dragon's flesh, and a flaring white light blazed out from under her hand, up her forearm, into the rest of her body, consuming her.

Gyrating wildly like a rag doll, she barely had time to notice for the first time that the dragon's widened eyes were the same bright blue as her own before she was falling out of herself, losing herself, drifting on a current of electricity, buried under layers of the white magic...layers of memory...

_/broken bitter grief pain loss hiding empty cold so cold/ _

_/hollow no heart death blood flashing claws arrows spears/ _

_/warm warm content sleep love gentle happy hungry meat meat meat_—_was that her baby? her baby!/ _

_/heat magic swirling away, blur of motion, endless jumble of images, anxious release, surging intensity, brightness sun sparkling water swaying trees/ _

_/one tree, solitary and alone, looming in the midst of the Disenchanted Forest, a shell, a hideaway, a prison, a hunter's home with skins and pelts, blood and guts, traps and racks, a tall broad-shouldered man with pale blue eyes and blond hair beneath a floppy hat_—_the Huntsman? the Huntsman?_—_embracing a woman with buckwheat-honey hair, kissing her, passion desire need love lust/ _

_/screaming shrieking horror outrage despair an old man in velvet and jewels face red with fury an ornate key clicking in the lock of a solid oak door tears weeping pain thudding heart a magic bird/ _

_/resignation loneliness indifference curiosity a gift a sheet whipped away a golden frame etched with runes adorned with wheel-like ornaments a simple turn argent light blazing from glass/ _

_/hate flinty gaze blending with blazing ruby eyes of an ebony crossbow I will kill you Pietro no how can you betray me twang of a bowstring, thunk of bolt in flesh you never loved me I rather think you will never see me again no no no NO/ _

_/running feet, slamming door, more weeping heart carved out gouged out no one loves me I am alone I wish to die the glitter of magic, shining catch, turn it turn it you know you want to cold light engulfing swallowing rushing like a river bearing her away away away to a realm where you will never find her lost lost forever lost/ _

_/shivering freezing blanket of white snow falling, twirling in intricate patterns blinding masking concealing a fallen form collapsed on the steps of a weathered arched keep rising forlornly to an ashen sky ghostly and faint in the howling storm fading in and out of sight a fluttering scrap of parchment I will have my revenge on the House of Charming/ _

_/stumbling falling weeping starving alone alone alone torn dress shoes lost, crawling dragging collapsing oh my God are you all right a face a strong handsome face concerned and kindly intelligent and aristocratic come with me come I'll help you out, what's your name mine is Geoffrey, Geoffrey Lewis/ _

_/so THAT is what happened whose thought is this his or mine does it really matter all is one, one is all sharing understanding confusion welter of emotions love and family new life burning light/ _

_/flash of light, sun off burnished wings and scales, circling arcing curving tails lashing claws flexing colossal roars leather oil unwashed bodies gruesome Troll faces grinning in triumph maces and morning stars whirled about/ _

_/weaving bodies, muscles flexing rippling beneath scales of crimson and gold, azure and viridian, massive wings spreading uncurling flapping downdraft billowing clouds of smoke fire flame burning flesh screams and howls of agony desperate flight/ _

_/desperate fly fly fly dodge twist and wind among the colossal beanstalks bursting from the barren soil pungent stench hide hide undulate and writhe flee arrows spears and swords hordes of Trolls in putrid pursuit/ _

_/deserted plains stormy sky you'll never get away from us you lizards axes rotating and flipping end over end gleaming in the light the crunch of armor and bone blade buried in heaving chest BROTHER NAY! falling falling limp wings bent plummeting hot blood pumping spraying spurting/ _

_/tremendous crash earthquake splitting ground diving swooping thou shalt pay for thy unjust murder fireball bursting forth roasting sizzling cooking swords slashing pain instinct flight hacking into green underbelly more fire land scorched maniacal ferocity maces crushing ribs piercing lungs thrashing/ _

_/death death running away I ran away I left her behind she was my sister and I deserted her no no it wasn't your fault you didn't kill her yea I did it wast my duty to protect her and I failed she hateth me she hateth me and so doth my brother they must I know it I am guilty/ _

_/guilt guilt sorrow distress Wolf's face twisted by despair and pain a scallop shell ring box held out as a peace offering shoved aside stumbling back from the table primal desire for home the mirror the mirror was lost to her you spent it on food no I spent it on you I don't belong here I never want to see you again love and devotion crumbling into a shattered heart a slim figure dressed in gorgeous red velvet left standing alone howling in a romantic restaurant/ _

_/darkness blackness the twilit streets of Kissing Town stumbling weeping trapped trapped forever her faith in men destroyed but she'd also hurt Wolf he had to hate her now collapsing on the steps things can't get any worse but oh yes they could her idiot father on the roof with the mirror sliding off to smash on the cobblestones everything was over she'd lost everything her soul was as fractured as her reflection in its glass/ _

_/glass the glass of the Evil Queen's mirrors shrouded like corpses in the hidden alcove looming sinisterly in a circle silent watchers to the terrifying confrontation Wolf Wolf standing there at her side, bowing deeply to the cold emotionless woman who had once been someone else how could he do this how could he betray her but then he had been after Wendell all along he'd been in prison with her of course he was bad she'd always sensed it but he was her mate for life she'd told him she loved him but no she had hurt him he hated her now he hated her I obey the Queen a knife thrust to the heart she had lost him/ _

_/loss horror family dead all dead returning flying back bringing meat to feed his mate, flying back to the nest, back to the cave, cries and laughter, sneering faces, pointed ears devilish ears flapping wings so beautiful and ethereal giggles and merriment eggs tossed casually in the air thrown splattered broken target practice impaled by magic arrows shimmering mist surrounding his mate/ _

_/Elves closing in contracting the circle laughing teasing mocking poking the dragoness with their swordpoints roar of fury fire blasting forth smoldering incinerating high-pitched screams of lambent death ignited wings delicate limbs racing with flames long-fingered hands upraised beseechingly other hands stiff and frozen shining incandescent vines of light cast outward in a golden net intertwining constricting tightening squeezing binding fast/ _

_/sanity giving way ferocity feral instinctive destructive teeth shredding ripping tearing stained with blood bodies smashed and crushed beneath titanic feet rent asunder bisected devoured ground to a pulp screams and wails roars and struggling golden magic restraining glinting metal enchanted blazing stabbing transfixing scales and armor over heart blood spewing from fanged jaws nay nay nay nay NAY NAY NAY she cannot be dead she cannot be dead she cannot be dead life-essence gurgling churning coppery in her throat choking/ _

_/choking pressing fingers forcing determinedly into her throat crushing her windpipe a mask of stone tripping stumbling over bodies of dead guests forced back across the marble floor enormous pain vision growing dark gasping wheezing stop Mom madness implacability relentless knees weakening giving way then the comb the comb encrusted with jewels self-defense wrench it free of auburn hair slashing with deadly teeth across the neck/ _

_/release freedom breathing cold eyes gone numb spots of red on ivory glovetips you have drawn blood a strange smile of pride the final card played with such skill in a manner worthy of the Queen herself falling collapsing the broken spell one last chance don't die don't die just remember who you are it's too late but no it wasn't she was back her mother was back soft and warm vibrant and loving/ _

_/touching cheek stroking caressing my little girl ancient poison overwhelms Swamp Witch will Christine fades and dies Mommy Mommy nooooooo heart stops throat fills tears flood useless useless tragedy the end found then lost so many deaths but only one mattered her mother her mother dead dead dead by her own hand dead/ _

_/Mother Father sacrifice death protect the hatchling images darting images and confusion and pain and longing and need warriors soldiers come Old King Cole is not so merry after all blue and red uniforms of Fifth Kingdom army marching marching fortifications phalanx adopting positions the command to fire catapults springing snapping jerking boulders crashing crushing ledges and cave entrances family dens roars and strafing fire scalding soldiers red-hot armor/ _

_/triumph victory short-lived shields upraised flames turned aside men pouring up the hillside, up the cliffs, scaling ladders ropes grappling hooks surrounded trapped save the hatchlings flying flying abandonment fear carried clutched in unknown claws borne away to safety war war continues rallying cries axes and swords hacking and chopping/ _

_/escape death no more no more but still it comes a torrent of blood and cruelty Father struggles free limps away launches into sodden sky where possibilities lie forever unclaimed boulder catapulted crushing shoulder falters spirals down arrows streak in horrific rain balls of flame perched at every tip stabbing piercing unerringly finding edges of armor plates agony heart pierced muscled body so much dead weight falling falling falling bent crumpled tumbling smashing down the cliff/ _

_/pain pain too much pain rapid memories screams cries centuries of death and conflict and loss images whirling out of control bits and pieces of interwoven lives her father crying Wendell turned to gold ruined castles Carmine's hateful face a gauntlet punching Wolf's jaw/ _

_/fireballs and toxic smoke desperate battles impossible to win bared fangs razored spikes slashing sweeping prejudice exile slaying slaying wizards' spells and iron weapons maelstrom of immolation howling shrieking/ _

_/wolves wolves persecuted and slaughtered Duncan and Cerise burning innocent atop the pyre uncontrollable intense intolerable pain shuddering unrestrained frantic Snow White's rose-red lips intoning destiny the Ice Queen's visage emotionless contemptuous laughing snow and ice so cold it burned like the fire engulfing all/ _

_/fire expanding billowing blasting out from draconian throats again and again but somehow never enough endless death defying magic magic the curse of the Sixth Kingdom hide hide get away none dare to penetrate the thorns stay safe alone but lonely oh so lonely nothing and no one to love but so much love to give never to be touched do not touch magic too strong passion desire joining dissolution death surge hot white white blinding searing pain pain pain PAIN/_

With more strength than she had ever thought she possessed and a shriek of inhuman agony, Virginia somehow wrenched free of the dragon's muzzle. Cradling her stomach instinctively she collapsed on the rocky floor, curled into a fetal ball, pitiful and broken.

For the next fifteen minutes it was all she could do to breathe, her lungs heaving first with the power that had been unleashed, then pain, then a hyperventilating attempt to gulp the life-giving oxygen, then finally with racking sobs. She pressed her hands to her face, squeezed her eyes shut, tried to block out the images. But they would not be banished, churning and flowing and crashing beneath the surface as if she had somehow broken a dam that had dumped an entire river of memories into her psyche, memories that were not her own but felt as if they were. The pain was excruciating, but it was now mental and emotional rather than physical. She'd had no idea...no idea...

Eventually the pain faded and the memories receded into the background, more by default and her own weary acceptance than for any other reason, she thought. Looking up weakly, she found herself eye to eye with the Last Dragon. He too was wheezing and gasping, recovering from the immense forces that had been released. And as she gazed into his azure eyes, she was shocked at how changed they were.

No longer was there a wall there, a barrier to keep out any who might wish to offer sympathy, understanding, or comfort. No longer were they filled by distrust, wariness, and superiority. Instead she saw only tenderness, compassion, love, and an aching need she felt compelled to assuage. He was lonely. He wanted someone to care. She could sense it.

"I...I'm sorry..." she panted at last. "I...I never meant for..." She gulped and stared down at her palms. To her amazement there was no mark on the one that had been joined to his muzzle, when she had been certain there would be at least a welt if not cauterized flesh. But she could still feel the heat and magic within.

"'Tis...'tis forgiven, milady," the dragon murmured. "Thou knewest not...the memories of a dragon are e'er at the surface, our magic keeps it but a touch away 'neath the armor of our visages...although..." He paused, frowning in puzzlement. "Its extent hath e'er been to gather the memories of others, ne'er to pass on mine own. And no human shouldst survive such prolonged contact."

"I told you I had magic," Virginia replied. "It...must have reacted to yours. No wonder we bonded so closely..."

"Indeed." The dragon seemed to have recovered his wits and calm once more. "In any event, thou shouldst ne'er touch my countenance again. I cannot ensure thy safety in future."

"Don't worry, I don't plan on it..." she muttered.

After several more minutes she was able to sit up, then shakily rise to her feet again. Staring into the beast's newly gentled face, she shook her head and closed her eyes. She had not known what she was doing, but now she knew. And she knew what she asked was far too great.

"I'm sorry, sir," she apologized yet again. "I was ignorant and selfish. I didn't know what all you'd been through. There's no way I could ask you to help me, not after what I've seen. After all you've suffered, it would be the cruelest of injustices to demand you help the Kingdoms that so spurned you and destroyed your life. I...I'll find some way to stop the Ice Queen on my own. I...am sorry to have troubled you."

She turned to leave, despair and resignation filling her heart, wondering how she would explain this to Wolf, but a vast roar, as of a bellows blasting into a forge, came from behind her. Instinctively she ducked and a column of fire blasted over her head, exploding out the cave mouth into the orange and crimson sky of sunset, as if feeding the sun's own furnace.

When the fire had dissipated, she slowly turned back. The dragon had risen back to his feet, his tail lashing furiously from side to side, and the look he gave her was at once reproachful and offended. "Thou wouldst depart now, after all that we have suffered together, after such a wondrous communion of souls? Thou wouldst abandon thy quest after thy passionate and shining plea unto me? This is most unseemly, milady! Remain where thou art and listen, lest I should grow wroth."

Virginia froze and nodded silently, abruptly afraid anew. Had she been wrong about the dragon?

Once he was convinced she wasn't going anywhere, the dragon settled back on his haunches. "Now, pay attention ere ye decide thy course. I would be remiss an I did not inform thee...thou wert a speaker of truth. Not a single word thou spokest wast a lie. I am indeed the greatest fool of all for never seeing it until this day. But of greater merit still wast thy memories, which even now do linger and abide within my heart. They have shown me, as nothing else could, how I have erred.

"Thine ancestress, the Lady Celeste, and her forbidden lover Pietro...from them I have learned what the past hath given up so that what wast foreordained might come to pass. To belittle their sacrifice would be unthinkable. 'Twould be pure selfishness, as thou hast said. And the price of selfishness is high, as thou hast discovered when thine insecurity and longing for home caused thee to reject and dismiss thine own love in the Kissing Town. Thou camest nigh to losing him, and after thou hadst declared thy love for him. I have lost many things in my life, but I shall not dare to remain selfish and discover what I still have left to lose...or what I shall become when that loss occurs. Lastly, thy mother."

His voice softened, became tender and understanding. "I see now how verily I wronged thee when I said thou hast not suffered. I hope thou canst forgive me. Thy sacrifice wast great...and yet thou didst not shirk thy duty, thy new life and friends and belief mattered more. But although thou lost thy mother, thy gain wast just as great. A soul freed and saved, self-confidence, love, the gratitude of the people, a place to belong, a child..."

The dragon trailed off, gazing almost protectively at her midsection as steam hissed and curled up from his nostrils. For several minutes the waves crashing on the shore were the only sounds, as Virginia listened raptly in disbelief and rising hope. Then the dragon nodded to himself and regarded her candidly. "In other words, milady, I am willing at last to seek out what I have to gain, even an it costeth me dearly.

"Life is a risk, a gamble, and I have paid the price erenow. I pray it is not necessary once more, but whether 'tis true or not, I cannot evade my destiny. Let us away from here henceforth. Let us see an I can restore thy faith in the courage of dragons." He grinned almost boyishly and winked at her. "Let us teach the Ice Queen that there are those who will stand athwart the tangled skein and deny her victory."

Virginia couldn't believe what she was hearing. Even as the dragon's memories still burned and swirled within her, and she felt the strange, ambiguous power of her own magic stirring and mixing, she fell on her knees again and wrapped her arms around the dragon's foreleg. "Oh, thank you, thank you, Last Dragon, you have no idea how much this means to me, to everyone. Or maybe you do. And I will make sure you get your reward for this, I swear it."

Looking rather embarrassed, the dragon smiled, his head fan flapping and flexing to clear the cave of smoke and soot and allow fresh air to flow in. "I do indeed understand, at last, the urgency of thy quest. And I have no doubts whatsoever that thou shalt keep me ever in thy thoughts. But I would make one request of thee. After what has passed between us, thou hast gained the right of sacred knowledge...and I, I have earned the right to claim it as mine own, and pass it on."

As Virginia stared up at him in awe and tremulous anticipation, the Last Dragon finished in a whisper, quite unlike his previous bellows and roars. "Clepe me no more by the mournful epithet 'Last Dragon.' My name is...Daviander."

* * *

(A/N: Just a quick note: the splinter effect I used when intermixing the dragon and Virginia's memories was inspired by a similar effect the author Shay used in her incredible fic _Reality_ for Wolf when he was trapped in the Swamp Witch's magic mirrors. It just seemed too cool and fitting, and she herself was rather tickled and touched that I used it. Also, as stated with the previous chapter, the references to the past of Virginia's ancestor come from my mini-fic "The Other Side of the Mirror." R/R!)


	18. Seventeen: Royal Decisions

**Seventeen**: Royal Decisions

Warm, soothing, and inviting, the noonday sun shone lazily down on the checkerboard fields, dividing hedgerows, irrigation ditches, and picturesque farmhouses of the countryside surrounding Cerulea, the capital of the First Kingdom. The bustling city itself was rather on the small side, quaint and narrow-laned, its houses, inns, and storefronts a mixture of slate, wood, stone, and cement. Most of the buildings were painted a pale blue, and the entire town exuded a sense of peace, tranquility, and wholesomeness.

The streets were clogged with traffic at this time of day, carts and horses and wheelbarrows and carriages interweaving on their various paths from one place to another, and hundreds of people walked the brightly lit roads, but hardly anyone seemed perturbed or angered by the slow pace, and everyone traveled about with smiles on their faces and hats tipped to passersby. Cerulea was known for the impeccable politeness of its citizens.

From high above, on the hill at the center of the city, Cinderella watched it all with a remote gaze as she stood at the embrasure of her sun-drenched sitting room, in a towering, slender spire of her azure palace. Normally the elderly queen was most concerned with the welfare of her people and took a deep and abiding interest in their lives, but today she was haunted by a decision that could well determine the future of her grandson's kingdom, and nothing else intruded on her thoughts. It was of paramount importance that she not be disturbed until her choice was made.

As if on cue, a deep, sonorous tolling began from somewhere overhead, clanging from the iron throat of a vast bell as the twelfth hour was struck, and Cinderella groaned, rubbing her suddenly aching forehead with one beringed hand. How she hated that bell! She had hated it for nearly two hundred years, ever since her days as a scullery maid slaving away in the manor of her stepmother, the Baroness Tremayne, when it had pealed out its inexorable summons to another day of drudgery and toil. She had longed to have it removed from its belfry but it was an unfortunate tradition of the royal family that could not be altered.

A small smile formed on her lips. At least not all the plagues of her adolescence were still with her. She remembered with relish how she had banished her stepsisters Drusilla and Anastasia to the Third Kingdom, where their ugliness, mutilated feet, and plucked-out eyes made them suitable only for status as Trollines. And of course the aged baroness had died long ago, after living out the rest of her lonely existence as one of the first inmates of the Snow White Memorial Prison.

Sadly she was not the only casualty of time—her dear sweet friends, Gus and Jaq, had passed on as well. Mice had such short lives, after all, more than two thousand generations had gone by since her wedding to the prince. But at least their descendants were still with her, and remained as her closest advisors. The human courtesans often scoffed and sneered at the mice, gossiping behind Cinderella's back concerning her growing senility in insisting on their presence in her assemblies, but she ignored them all. She was the queen, tradition and precedent demanded she be respected, and she knew where true loyalty lay.

Her mice had never steered her wrong, they had stood by her when she wept bitter tears in her garret with no one else who cared about her fate, and she was not about to abandon them now for the sake of functionaries and toadies.

In fact, it was to her mice that she had presently appealed for counsel.

Turning away from the window, she walked with stately steps and slow to the wingbacked chair of cyan leather that sat beside the fireplace—more due to her sore feet and aching back than out of any sense of decorum. Settling into the seat, Cinderella sighed in relief and gazed about the comforting chamber, its midnight blue walls and dark-paneled wood seeming ancient and venerable; the bookcases of ponderous, weighty tomes, the vast walnut desk, the ornate paintings, the crystal-and-brass chandelier, and the navy blue carpeting all added to the splendor and luxuriance. Slipping her shoes off, she buried her feet in the soft fur of a bearskin rug, then rested her eyes at last upon the table beside her chair. "Well, Beauregard, have you come to a conclusion yet?"

Sitting back on his tiny haunches, the somehow studious-looking mouse on the table rubbed at his bewhiskered chin with one forepaw. "Hmmm...I don't know, Cinderelly. Read me the letter once more."

Chuckling softly at the old familiar nickname uttered in that precious piping voice—despite the agonies of the deportment master and her own gentle admonishments, the mice never seemed to call her anything else—Cinderella picked up the folded sheet of cream-white parchment and lifted her golden lorgnette into place so as to read the elegant script. "Dear Grandmother, I know that for the last several years you have been most insistent on my finding a wife to provide an heir to the throne, and my advisors have been similarly strident in their views.

"Thus, although it may come as a surprise to you, I abandon the battle. I have decided there shall be a ball held in my honor which all eligible maidens in the kingdom shall attend, and there I will choose who shall be my queen. So if you would kindly make a special journey to my castle, I would be most gratified to receive your assistance in planning and holding the ball, as well as compiling a profile for my future bride. I will, of course, also be extremely grateful to see your shining countenance once more, our last visit after my coronation was far too brief. Sincerely, Wendell."

After she had finished and lowered the lorgnette, Beauregard sat in silence, his thin, whip-like tail flicking about in time with his rapid thoughts. "Tell me again what the problem is with it?"

Cinderella tapped her nails on the table, pursing her lips. That was the problem with mice, their minds were rather flighty. "On the surface nothing is wrong, Beau. What Wendell tells me is wonderful news, if a bit sudden, and I would normally be eager to travel to his castle and congratulate him on his decision. But there is a strange feeling that I am having. Something just doesn't feel right."

The mouse tilted his head rather comically. "It sounds all right to me. Do you have reason to believe it is not from your grandson? Is it in his handwriting?"

"No. But I recognize it as the work of his head scribe. And it is not unusual for him to delegate responsibility, he is a busy man."

Beauregard frowned, his beady eyes dark and thoughtful. "Would he normally leave such a personal letter to his scribe?"

Cinderella frowned as well. "No. That's not like him at all."

Again silence descended, fraught with dread and worry, as the mouse thought through all the possibilities. The wind blew softly at the casement, setting the chandelier to swaying and tinkling. Then Beauregard asked tentatively, "Do you think Wendell has some indelicate issue he wishes to discuss with you in person, and this letter was simply an excuse? Or...do you suspect foul play?"

"I don't know. That's the trouble, I don't have anything specific to point to, just this feeling." She was quite used to acting on her instincts and wits, she had always been a sharp and intelligent girl from the time of her servitude, and her cleverness had only been whetted and honed by her years as a queen. She knew when to trust her heart—she had learned to do so when a glass slipper had been the only link to her Happy Ever After. And her heart was telling her now that something was amiss. It had done so eight months prior at the coronation, when she had sensed something odd about the prince, and it turned out she had been right, there had been an ensorcellment.

Beauregard scampered across the table to her hand and sat up again, resting his miniature paws on her knuckles as if they were fenceposts. "If the cheese smells spoiled, it most likely is," he agreed. "Well then, I think your choice is obvious."

"Oh?" Cinderella raised one elegant auburn eyebrow. "And what is that, my friend?"

The mouse narrowed his eyes and looked at her as if she were dense. "Why, you must do as the letter says, and go to the palace at once! No matter what is wrong, you can't do anything about it by remaining here. Whether Wendell simply needs his grandmother's advice, or some terrible plot has befallen him, either way it is your duty to go to him, to do all in your power to help."

Blinking, the queen of the First Kingdom sat back and let the weight of this logical and moral reasoning settle over her. It was not a surprise to her, an unseen truth, for ever since she had first read the letter, a voice in the back of her mind had impelled her to do exactly that, to seek out Wendell and apply herself firmly to the task, whatever it might be. But up to this point she had shunted that voice aside, had relegated it to the back of her mind.

Despite the humbling conditions of her childhood, she still possessed a healthy amount of pride. Her beauty, or lack thereof, meant a great deal to her, and thus she avoided public appearances as much as possible.

That was why she had always remained secretive and rarely traveled, and she had gone into total seclusion twelve years ago after the mysterious death of her daughter Ashley. Out of habit and shame she longed to continue her cloistered lifestyle. A part of her desired to ignore the letter, send only a cordial reply of congratulation, and return to her private estate at the Heart Mansion, letting that be the end of it. One sojourn per decade was enough for her, and her allotted appearance had been only eight months ago.

On the other hand, she knew how selfish such a desire was. That very venture out of her hermitage had proven how crucial it was to remain aware of current events and behind-the-scenes maneuverings. No one had realized the truth of what was going on until it was too late, all had been so caught up in the trappings and finery of the coronation that no one had understood the Evil Queen was secretly plotting and orchestrating it all. Even she herself had been fooled, and this after she had suspected something was wrong with Wendell. For heaven's sake, he had propositioned her, his own grandmother!

Not to mention all the references to bones and other canine pursuits. She had simply written it off as nerves after he proved his humility, and if not for the Lady Virginia and her wolven lover, Cinderella would have paid the price for her blindness with her life. As such, if another danger threatened Wendell, even all the Kingdoms, then she could not scurry away and hide from it like one of her mice fleeing from Lucifer the cat. Her kingdom was the oldest, she was the most esteemed monarch of all, it would not do to be thought a coward.

And the specific impetus to her concealment from society, Ashley's death, made it even more imperative she not dismiss this call. Her daughter had died because everyone, from Whitney to his advisors to Cinderella herself, had underestimated the demure, sweet quietude of the nursemaid Christine.

Cinderella's eyes narrowed. She would not make such a mistake again. Her instincts once more told her a great danger loomed over them all, and unlike with Ashley or at the coronation, she would not brush it aside. She would follow her heart.

Nodding decisively, she turned back to the still attentive mouse and smiled grimly. "You're absolutely right, Beau. If Wendell needs to be rescued once more from his own folly, then I would be remiss if I did anything other than make the attempt to save him." Rising to her feet once again, she slipped her shoes back on, smoothed the front of her rich gown of periwinkle silk, and turned toward the door. "I may be two hundred years old, but my age shall not keep me from carrying out my duties to family and kingdom."

And with that she passed from the chamber, striding down the hall to fetch a servant and prepare her pumpkin coach. As she went, an expression of determination and resolution tautened the lines of her face. Whoever or whatever lay ahead, it had better be ready to face her distinct disapproval.

* * *

Red Riding Hood III took away her hand from her forehead where it had been blocking out the wan sunlight and shielding away a view of her shedding painful tears. Sitting up ramrod-straight in the carriage seat, she looked ahead down the road. Below, at the base of the hill, beyond the entourage of soldiers, footmen, and honor guard, Incarnadine spread like a vast carpet across the valley, as crimson as a river of blood. Flags and banners and streamers flapped and flew everywhere inside the walls, bells pealed out their carillons of joy and celebration, and faintly she could hear the voices of her people raised in excitement and happiness. Slowly she let out a sigh of relief.

She was home. And yet, she did not feel home. After all that had happened, she felt as if she did not belong anywhere, and never would again.

Whimpering softly, the queen of the Second Kingdom lowered her face, setting her gaze on her hands where they lay clasped in her lap. It had all gone wrong. Everything had gone wrong since the day Wolf and his companions had been dragged before her in her throne room. And it was all her fault, because she had refused to see the truth for so long that when it finally stared her in the face and could not be denied, it had shattered her heart and her life.

Once, not so long ago, she would have blamed it all on Wolf, on his lies and savagery. But she could not hide behind that familiar mindset, not anymore. The searing light of truth had broken through the chinks in her armor, collapsed her walls, and burned through her blind eyes so she could see. And what she saw horrified her.

Wolves capable of love...Cerise, finding her Happy Ever After, yet deprived of it by her sister's own jealousy and hatred...an innocent wolf burned to death in order to further Carmine's ambitions and power...Wolf's life ruined, turning him into a bitter and lonely person, one filled with righteous anger and calculating revenge...wolves in general persecuted and slaughtered for no other reason than because they were different, because one of them had sinned and she had taken it upon herself to punish the entire race for that one transgression. She was guilty of the most heinous crimes, and deserved to die.

That was why she had fled from the campsite in the Sixth Kingdom, that was why she had prevailed on the Piper to free her, to help her escape. That was why she had kissed him, had resorted to the desperate strategy of trying to seduce him into aiding her cause, when she had no romantic feelings toward him whatsoever. It was true that only in the capital, at her castle, could she affect change, could she reverse her policies and atone for her destructive past. But more than anything she had simply had to get away, she had to flee, to escape the accusatory and vindicated expressions of Wolf and Virginia, the pity of Prince Colin. She could not face them, or herself.

She had cravenly fled them, and succeeded in escaping. But even as she retraced their steps, returned to the border of the Second Kingdom, searched the smashed thorns for a gap large enough to squeeze through—as she traveled back to Pumpkin Village, determined to find someone who would recognize her and help her, she had not been able to flee her own tortured thoughts.

Her thoughts had remained with her on the journey back—as she waited in Pumpkin Village, annoyed and frustrated by the simpering apologies of the Mayor for not identifying her before, suffering through his constant hovering service; as she waited for General Gules to arrive with the carriage that would take her home; and during the last three days of travel eastward. Her mind had been consumed by these thoughts, and still was even now.

It had surprised and shocked her at first, she had been certain that as soon as the danger was past, as soon as she was once more among friends and servants and advisors she would be able to relax, to let her guilt and pain be buried, to deny a need for absolution. She always knew her own morality was beyond reproach, that she had no obligation to listen to the opinion and judgment of anyone lower than she, that her sense of right and wrong came from an impeccable source and therefore could never be flawed.

She was free of Wolf's blazing eyes, of Virginia's plaintive pleas, of the Piper's impassioned words.

Except, of course, that she was not free at all. They stayed with her, they haunted her, they had a steel grip on her soul. And the reason for that was twofold. The May Queen had removed her hatred of wolves, and without it, she was no longer immune to the emotional and cogent arguments of her former enemies—she could feel, she could care, she could be effected by tales of woe and anguish, by the fact that Duncan had murdered his own father in order to protect Cerise and end the feud.

And secondly, the reason for her hatred in the first place, the unwavering well of strength and purpose that had driven and guided her for all her life, had been proven to be a lie. Red Riding Hood had come to her in the shadowed, misty walls of the hedge maze, and despite her own guilt and self-loathing had revealed her mistakes, her naiveté, her confusion and prejudice. Her grandmother had insisted that all the teachings she had imparted to Scarlett and then Carmine had been wrong.

It was for this reason most of all that she could not banish the words of her captors from her conscience, why they alternately thundered and whispered, coerced and begged, demanded and appealed. Because without her grandmother's teachings, without her moral compass to rely upon, Red Riding Hood III was adrift in a turbulent sea of faces and emotions and reasons that no longer held any meaning. She needed something to cling to, and she no longer possessed it. With each minute, each hour, each day that passed, she became more and more unhinged.

It was no longer simply Duncan, Cerise, and Wolf—now the face of every convicted wolf, every guilty beast that had been brought before her magistrates or her throne, rose from the depths of her being to confront her, to attack her, to simply present itself for inspection and truth. How many of them had been innocent?

How many had been the victims of fear and hate, of jealousy and greed, of manufactured plots to discredit them for personal gain, of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? How many had she allowed to die for crimes that were not theirs? Their voices cried out to her, she could hear them constantly, crying out through all the years for vengeance, for justice, for understanding.

She had heard them howling in despair as she trundled across the landscape of her kingdom each day, and no matter how loud the sound of clopping hooves and marching boots, no matter how often she immersed herself in inane conversations with General Gules, his men, or her advisors, they would not be drowned out, they would not be silenced.

She heard them at night in the quiet stillness of her sumptuous room at each inn where they paused until the following morn; the shadows in the corners and looming across the ceiling were wolven silhouettes come to collect her and obliterate her from the memory of every living person. Their shouts and growls and snarls filled her dreams, turning them into terrifying nightmares that did not depart even upon waking.

Nothing seemed to help. The Royal Apothecary had met them halfway, in a village just beyond the forest of Benjamin Tell, come to check up on her and ensure she had not suffered any sickness or injury during her hostage. Upon learning of her nightly horrors, he had prescribed a foul-smelling and even worse tasting herb, ground to powder and ingested in tea or wine, but it had not produced the desired effect. Her sleep had become more regular, her nerves were calmed, she no longer had dark circles under her eyes, but the nightmares did not end.

Puzzled and perplexed, the apothecary had increased the dosage, had added other concoctions and medications until she floated about in a daze of potions and brews, barely aware of her surroundings, as if she had eaten magic mushrooms. But still the guilt could not be purged by some miracle panacea.

Even the news that came by messenger of the breaking of the spell on the Sixth Kingdom had only lifted Carmine's spirits momentarily, as she realized Prince Colin must have been the instigator, that her lustful advances had not denied him his destiny and that he would now be happy at last with the slumbering princess. Her relief and inner joy for her friend and protector had descended almost at once into shame and self-pity as she recalled anew how close she had come to betraying him, and betraying her own ethics.

She, the Virgin Queen, who would never be touched by a man, had been willing to debase herself, to wantonly give in to temptation if it would win her her freedom. She had even violently and angrily struck the Piper over the head after he had repudiated her yet again, knocking him out so she could make her retreat. She hadn't even bothered to make sure he would survive the blow, only performing a perfunctory examination and determining he still lived before concealing his body under the brambles, catching up her riding skirt, and racing from the garden without a trace of dignity.

What had she become? Her grandmother had said prior to her relinquishing of her hatred for wolves that she was a shell, empty of humanity. But now she failed to see how the state of her mind and soul was any improvement. And still the nightmares came, night and day, awake and asleep, until she never knew anymore where she was or what state she was in.

Nothing seemed to matter, only the awful images and sounds that permeated her senses: the wolven cubs that wept and wailed for parents that would never return, the mates separated by iron bars and later by the wall of death, the aged and infirmed coughing and wheezing as they lived alone and forgotten after the executions of their loved ones, too old to hunt...starving and wasting away until the day they too were dragged off as parasites of the community. They demanded justice, and she was too frightened and conflicted and stubborn to give it to them.

If she had known the worries of Wolf and Virginia that she might revert to her old ways and resume her persecution, she would have laughed mirthlessly. That was quite impossible now. For good or for ill she had changed forever, she had seen the face of evil and it was her own. She could never forget what she had learned. But between her obstinacy, her fear, her self-loathing, and the nightmares, she found she would rather be dead than take any action now.

The sound of cheering snapped her out of her dismal, morose reverie, and Red Riding Hood III looked up with disinterest to note they had arrived at the gates of the city. As the crimson carriage and the blood bay stallions pulling it creaked into Incarnadine, surrounded by hundreds of gallant soldiers in rich cloaks and full armor, weapons bristling and the crest of the House of Red displayed prominently on each breastplate and shield, the cheering grew louder. Carmine found herself in a sea of people. They were coming out of the buildings, flowing into the streets, shouting and yelling and celebrating. Overhead, fireworks went off, while bells were ringing in the distance and people were shouting.

"Long live Queen Carmine!"

"Here she is, here she is!"

"She has escaped the murderous Wolf, she has saved us from the wolves yet again!"

"Return of the Queen, Happy Ever After!"

People were throwing confetti everywhere, waving flowers and banners hailing her greatness, crowding close to the carriage even in the broad roadway, heedless of the clopping hooves. Many women were throwing roses, poppies, carnations, chrysanthemums, any flower that came in a shade of red. Men brandished pots and mugs of red ale and toasted her good fortune and health in the years to come.

It was all quite ridiculous—and so utterly worthless. It was false, it was so much dross and vain mammon, it meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. Once she had reveled in this pomp, she had basked in it and enjoyed it as her due and just reward. But now she knew better. She was reminded of Wendell's triumphal entry into Kissing Town, which had later turned out to be a hoax of the Evil Queen's. How could they be so fooled? she wondered as she gazed out over the thronging crowd.

How could they think any of this mattered? Or that she did? And as for saving them from the wolves, that was the most bald-faced lie imaginable. She had not saved them from Wolf, any more than she had the wolves of the past. In point of fact, she had condemned them to years of hate and death at the hands of the wolven resistance, she had created those who would later bring suffering when otherwise they would have remained peaceful and loyal citizens of the kingdom.

Like the Dog Prince, she too was not what she seemed and deserved no respect or glory. Her subjects should not be thanking her or praising her, they should hate her.

As she now hated herself.

The hollow celebration continued in a swirl around her as the carriage drove on, until at last it came to a stop in the central square of Incarnadine. Flanked by General Gules and his staff, she descended from the coach with a soft moan, then tried to present a facade of gentility and appreciation to the watching crowds as she walked toward the drawbridge. She only glanced up once at the statue of her grandmother as a little girl and shuddered, wondering if there was any conceivable way she could discreetly have it removed.

Inside, she was accosted at once by the coterie of her former life—maidservants, ladies-in-waiting, and attendants ready to commiserate over her plight, to gossip and natter on about nothing as they performed her toilet, applied her makeup, and powdered her face; milliners and couturiers ready to choose her wardrobe and dress her according to their standards of decency as they tut-tutted over the state of her current attire; stylists and coiffeurs ready to shampoo and arrange her auburn hair. There were servants galore, messengers and dignitaries, lords and ladies, cooks and butlers, the Master Horse and the sergeant-at-arms, the sewing mistress and the castle decorator, her appointment secretary and all the members of the Royal Council of Advisors.

They descended upon her like bees to honey, and she was at once taken aback. She had known, subconsciously, how many people were involved in the day-to-day running of the government and the castle, and her own life, but she had never seen them all together in one place before. It was quite daunting, and it made even more apparent to her her complete lack of understanding of the real world, her overweening arrogance.

Pushing and shoving her way through the mass of humanity, Carmine only wished to attain her chambers, to find privacy and peace, to contemplate her future such as it was, to simply relax and deal with the trauma of all that had happened to her. But her servants seemed to have other ideas. Each and every one of them had something absolutely imperative to say, something that simply could not wait, something that _had_ to be attended to this very moment.

There were documents to sign, dates to finalize, pardons to be considered, executions to attend (she cringed inwardly at that thought, knowing who the likely criminals were to be), parties to plan, ceremonies to perform, dedications to be made, foreign ministers to meet. And on and on it went. On one level she understood, a great deal would have happened in her absence that she must catch up on, work piling up and left undone, and of course the whole palace would have been in an uproar over her kidnapping. But on another level she didn't understand, she couldn't understand at all. Was this simply the way things always were, and she had never seen it, had simply accepted it?

Or was this her own doing, had she chosen this manner of dealing with royal matters and the public at large? Did all of her servants have this fawning, obsequious attitude because of her example, because it had trickled down from the top? She shuddered anew.

Finally she achieved the foot of the main staircase and managed to commandeer one of her maids, asking her if she would please ready her chamber and a bath to be drawn. She had just made a ringing announcement to everyone that she would meet with each of them personally after she had had time to rest and recover, and was just about to ascend the steps, when General Gules approached her. "Your Majesty, I understand your need for peace and quiet, and I would never wish to intrude or impose on your good graces, but there is one matter you must see to straightaway."

Carmine sighed and leaned imperceptibly against the marble banister of the staircase as she rubbed her temples with her fingertips. "Very well, General, what is it that cannot wait?"

The military man relaxed his posture somewhat and removed his burnished steel helm to reveal his shock of brilliant red hair. His craggy face bore an expression of simmering anger, cruelty, and slyness she found most disagreeable. "Well, your Majesty, seeing as how the traitor Wolf is now responsible not only for the death of the Princess Cerise and threats to your life, but also kidnapping, terrorism, and endangerment to the royal person, I rather thought it to be in the best interests of the Kingdom—and you—if I were to take a platoon of my men and search the Sixth Kingdom for your captors. I could take an ambassador with me to claim diplomatic immunity, extradition proceedings, and so forth. And once I find Wolf and his companions, I could offer suitable...chastisement." He pronounced the final word with something as close to the crack of doom as he could manage.

"NO!" The cry burst from her lips instinctively before she could stop it, and at once the entire chamber went silent as everyone turned to stare at her in stupefaction. General Gules's jaw dropped slightly, and Carmine realized her mistake too late. Such a change was far too much, far too soon. She must be more slow and cautious, moving carefully, if she intended to alter matters, which she was still not certain she could or would do. Yet she also knew her instincts had been correct—she could not do that to Wolf and Virginia. Not just because of their quest, but because it would be wrong.

"I mean, no, that will not be necessary, General," she qualified more sedately and gently. "I am handling the matter of Wolf personally, as I always have, and your assistance is not needed. I have things under control—" A lie. "—and everything is proceeding smoothly, at its own pace and in its own time. Fret not, when the time is right Wolf shall receive what is coming to him." There. That should be suitably vague enough and allow everyone to draw their own conclusions.

General Gules looked dubious at first, but then he smiled slowly and nodded. "My apologies, my Queen. I will withdraw now." He began to back away, bowing.

A thought came to her. "Oh, and one further thing...inform me if you hear anything, any rumor or tale of anything being amiss in the Fourth Kingdom."

As the general nodded again and departed, her secretary approached and Carmine had to fight the urge to tear out her hair. Would they never leave her alone? "Yes, what is it?" she snapped.

"Your Majesty, I only wished to tell you your correspondence is on your desk." The nervous, rabbity fellow trembled before her, clearly aware she was losing her patience.

"Oh...thank you." Trying to recover a modicum of manners, she inclined her head graciously, then quickly took her leave, hurrying up the stairs as fast as her riding skirt and decorum would allow, before anyone else could think of an excuse to detain her.

Once inside her bedchamber, she threw herself down on the vast canopied bed and wept, wept long and fiercely until there were no more tears to weep. She knew not why or for what she wept—her sister, her family, her throne, her kingdom, Wolf, herself, her lies and self-delusion. When she was through she felt more cleansed than she had imagined possible, but still it was not enough. More was needed. She could not simply pity herself, she must make amends, she must change matters.

But how? How could she do it, do what went against every fiber of her being? Even if she could admit now that she was wrong, that Wolf was innocent and so had his father been, that she had destroyed Cerise's life—even then, that would never satisfy Wolf. Or her conscience, for that matter. But to go even further, to pardon all wolves as Wendell had done, to reverse the laws and end the persecution...it seemed unthinkable. She did not know if she had the strength or the goodness in her to do it.

Yet still, something had to give, things could not stay as they were. And if she could not make the changes, if she could not bring herself to undo the damage she had done, there was another who could. Wolf. He was a prince of the House of Red. If he were all that was left of the family, the people would have no choice but to accept him, and as king he could easily wipe the books, rewrite the laws, shove down the people's throats that wolves were not evil creatures and deserved respect and honor. All it would take was one act on her part.

Slowly, Carmine sat up on the bed, wiped her eyes, and looked about the rich, regal furnishings of her boudoir, the golden vanity, the leather settees and satin chairs, the oak bookcases and wardrobes, the velvet curtains and silken bedclothes, the paintings and dressers, the armoires and tapestries. More of the same empty finery. It was in this very room that Wolf and Virginia had captured her; it seemed fitting that things cyclically return to this spot.

Here also Virginia had mentioned that a wolven soldier had freed them from the dungeon. She would have to learn who that soldier was, and assuming he had not already fled the castle, protect him from the wrath of General Gules, in return for his noble act that might well have saved the Kingdoms, and opened her eyes.

It would be her last act.

Slowly, listlessly, she rose from the bed and crossed the room, trembling every step of the way, her limbs feeling hollowed out, her heart scraped raw and bleeding, until she reached the small maple desk beside the fireplace. On the blotter, beside the inkwell and quill, lay an assortment of items—a pile of letters, the seal of the House of Red, parchment and ribbons, Lord Rupert's signet ring...and a letter opener for loosening wax seals, its blade long, gleaming and sharp.

Carmine bit her lip and reached out shakily to clutch the delicately chased hilt of the poniard, her emotions warring back and forth inside. Did she want to do this? Yes, and no. Would it solve all her problems? No, probably not, but at least she would be out of the picture, no longer holding her kingdom back, no longer interfering with progress and the way things must be...no longer haunted by her guilt. But was this right, was she choosing truly out of self-sacrifice and the good of all, or simply her own cowardice and weakness?

The Piper had said she would disappoint and abandon her family and ancestors more if she did not change, if she did not make the choice herself, but it hurt so very much. She wanted the pain to end. She was pathetic, she was running away from her obligations, from her past, from the truth. Yet she could not resist the increasingly attractive and powerful yearning to die, to escape. She was weak, she could see that now, but it did not make her able to do what must be done.

It might be foolish, it might leave the kingdom in chaos, it might put Wolf's life and the other wolves in greater danger, or it might finally bring about healing and unity and peace. But the ultimate factor here was, as always, her selfishness, which she could see no way to change. What she wanted, peace and the elimination of her nightmares, mattered more than anything else.

She lifted the letter opener, studied it almost in detachment, then wrapped her fingers around the hilt, tightened them until her knuckles were white, and closed her eyes for a moment. She placed the blade against her chest, the touch of its sharp tip felt even through the thick fabric of her tunic. She silently apologized to her grandmother for not being the queen she could be proud of.

She opened her eyes again and took one last look around the room, at all she would be giving up and leaving behind. She looked down at the desk, ready to write the note to General Gules concerning the wolven soldier, and a general apology to all of her advisors, servants, and subjects for her mistakes, her sins, and the fact that her reign had come to this choice. Then she would take her own life.

It was then that her eyes fell on the letter on top of the stack—crisp, creamy-white parchment, folded neatly, sealed with wax like any other missive from a fellow monarch or a courtier of the elite. But what drew her eyes was the green ribbon tied around the letter...and, pressed into the wax, the embossed seal of the House of White.

The letter opener tumbled from her suddenly slack grip as she gasped softly. What could this mean? Had some Fourth Kingdom official written her to apprise her of the situation there? Or had Virginia lied to her after all, was Wendell perfectly safe and well, with no Ice Queen threatening their lives and lands? Shakily she reached out and picked up the letter, untying the ribbon, popping the seal with her fingernail, and unfolding it, wondering what she would read, what she wanted it to say and what she didn't.

As her eyes scanned the calligraphy of the letter, all thoughts of suicide, of wolves, of hate and pain and loss, were released from her mind like the four and twenty blackbirds bursting from their pie. Stunned, she sat down heavily in her chair, unable to believe what she was reading. An invitation from Wendell. Virginia revealed to be a witch and traitor. The pardon of wolves rescinded. A request for the names of all wolves who had sought clemency in the Fourth Kingdom.

It was impossible. It said all the things she would once have wanted to hear. In fact it dovetailed neatly, almost word for word, with everything she had accused Virginia of in her throne room. She shuddered as she realized how, just a week ago, she would have believed every word of this letter, would have fallen for the trap as easily as she had been fooled by the Dog Prince at the coronation. It would have been music to her ears. It horrified her how blind and foolish she had been...how much she had changed since then, in such a short time.

Recovering her poise, she examined the letter again, read over every word, considered all the implications. Clearly this was a forgery, a summons from the Ice Queen to trick her into coming to Wendell's palace and being frozen as all the others had been. It was exactly as Virginia had claimed. It was too pat, too perfect, it could be nothing but a pack of lies. But then she frowned. How was it, then, that it matched precisely her speech in the throne room? It was almost as if someone had been listening...

Freezing in place, Carmine swallowed hard. A detail that had escaped her before, a detail related by Virginia when she had not truly been listening or willing to believe her, surfaced in her mind. The girl had mentioned that when she and Wolf had escaped from Wendell's palace to begin their quest, ice demons had been breaking into the room where the Evil Queen's magic mirrors resided. Suppose they had taken the demonic glasses to their mistress? She could have used the Spying mirror to observe the entire confrontation in the throne room. The Ice Queen could even be watching her this very moment...

Very slowly she set the letter down on the desk. Even though it would be pointless if the Ice Queen had been watching her a few moments ago, let alone on the journey west, she adopted a haughty and pleased expression, even as inside she was screaming in fear and her thoughts were racing feverishly. What was she to do? She had this knowledge now, she could not deny it to the rest of the Kingdoms. But would anyone believe her? She had only circumstantial evidence.

Still, she must do something. And she knew exactly what it was. The matter of the wolves was far too complex, too emotional, too overwhelming for her to deal with now, perhaps ever. But this, this was something she could face head-on, a way she could atone for her sins, a way she could give back to the Nine Kingdoms and restore her reputation. She could answer the letter, pretend to be fooled, and at the right moment, strike back at the Ice Queen.

Cupping Lord Rupert's signet ring in her hand, she squeezed it as she gazed up to the portrait above the fireplace, to the stern, beautiful, and proud countenance of Red Riding Hood the First peering down at her. What would her grandmother do? What would she want _her_ to do? Braving the Ice Queen's sorcery would be dangerous, bold, and reckless—it could even get her killed.

But then, she smiled to herself, wasn't that the whole point? If she succeeded, then the Kingdoms would be saved, she would regain her confidence, and perhaps she could find the wherewithal to confront her demons, lay to rest her nightmares, and approach the wolves with vision, honesty, and understanding. And if she failed...then there would be no need to end her life herself, and Wolf could do what had to be done to save his people. Either way, the matter would be resolved.

With a proud, confident air she did not truly feel, Red Riding Hood III rose from her chair and crossed to the bellpull that hung beside her desk, giving it a firm tug. After only five minutes her maid appeared and curtsied. "Yes, your Majesty?"

"There has been a change in plans," she declared imperiously for anyone who might be listening in. "A matter of urgency has come to my attention via a critical letter, and I must attend to it as soon as possible. So as soon as my bath is completed, I wish for you to summon my secretary, the head of the Council, and General Gules."

The queen paused, then smiled suggestively as she pocketed Lord Rupert's signet ring. "Tell them to keep my coach at the ready, for a state visit to the Fourth Kingdom."

* * *

Standing at the battlements of one of the castle watchtowers, overlooking the walled town below from the square parapet of the barbican, the Piper waited in a blending of anticipation, worry, and reluctance as he kept his eyes fixed on the southern horizon. Early that morning, when most of the court was still asleep, a message had arrived from Virginia's coachman at the hostel, relating how she had obtained the dragon's help and was flying back on him that very night. Due to the dragon's tireless strength and his aerodynamic magic, it seemed he was able to complete what would normally be a two-day journey by carriage in one night, so they were informed to be ready to receive Virginia no later than noon.

Turning, Colin glanced at Wolf, who waited with him no less impatiently—in fact the half-wolf strode and stalked about the parapet with increasingly agitated and uncontrolled motions, clenching his fists, scratching his temple, and snarling under his breath. Every now and then he glared about, as if thinking to find someone to blame for the delays. The Piper rather thought that if he had believed he could get away with it, Wolf would have taken out his frustrations on one of the soldiers garrisoned in the tower.

But at least Wolf's anger and distrust were no longer directed at him. Colin heaved a small sigh of relief, and despite the other man's current state, he offered him a small smile of encouragement. It had felt so good to finally receive Wolf's approval, to earn his respect and understanding, and he was grateful to Wolf for being so honest and open with him. It only reinforced his own opinion that wolves had been a wrongfully maligned and hated species for far too long.

To be sure, Wolf's temper and suspicious nature often got him into trouble, and Colin could see how misinterpretation, unintended offense, and a few bad apples could have made the majority of the Nine Kingdoms fear and distrust wolves, but all in all, he felt a change was on the wind, when people would begin to see how truly mistaken they had been and would make amends.

Of course that could only happen if Red Riding Hood III were to change her ways.

Gingerly the Piper explored the still prominent swelling on the side of his head where Carmine had struck him with the rock after he rejected her. It did not hurt anymore, luckily, and the royal physician had done an excellent job treating and tending to the injury with ointment and cold compress; it had shrunk to half its original size, and was no longer quite so noticeable, nor did it impair him or prevent him from attending to Briar Rose. But it was a vivid and undeniable reminder of the violence and stubbornness still quite prevalent in the queen of the Second Kingdom.

Colin recalled anew the final moments of their confrontation, after she kissed him, when he had denied her yet again. She had been furious, and had demanded then that he give her his pipe. But he had refused that as well, explaining apologetically that he was the only one who could use it. And then he had made his mistake, turning his back on her to tend to the fire, and she had struck him. As he had passed out, he had seen her standing over him, her expression a wild mélange of pain, anger, desperation, and fear. That moment was burned into his brain, never to be forgotten.

Slowly he shook his head. He had told Wolf that he believed Carmine to be a changed woman, but that was not the truth. He _hoped_ that she had changed. He _felt_ that she had, but he did not know it for certain. Of the company, he was the only one who truly knew Red's heart and soul, he believed, and he had seen the anguish and bitterness in her as she realized the truth of his words. He had known she spoke the truth as well when she begged to be released so she could make amends. But what he also knew was that there had been further motivations, and he had no idea what they were or if they would supersede Carmine's will to atone for her sins. Like the others, he could only hope and wait.

He would not have to wait long for Virginia, however. At that moment his thoughts were interrupted by a cry from one of the sentinels, and the Piper turned automatically to gaze skyward. To the south, barely visible against the backdrop of ivory clouds, a dark speck was approaching, gradually growing larger. Normally he would have assumed it to be some sort of bird, but somehow he could sense this was far, far more massive than any bird could ever be, and more deadly. "Wolf! Wolf, I do believe that..."

Colin trailed off as he found himself alone on the parapet, talking to thin air. Wolf had already seen the speck and had fled the battlements for the street below, so quickly he hadn't even seen him move. Colin chuckled, then hurried to catch up with him.

It only took fifteen minutes or so to descend the rapidly corkscrewing stairwell, then race beneath the portcullis and across the drawbridge into the town, and despite the crowded streets Wolf made rapid time, dodging and weaving between the citizens and even shoving them aside if the congestion impeded his progress too greatly. Colin followed after him at a distance, his youth and physical condition still no match for the fleetness of a wolf, and so he was left behind to hastily apologize for Wolf's lack of manners.

Those who had suffered most at Wolf's hands—a fruit-seller buried face-first in his stock of juicy tomatoes, a chimney sweep buried head-first in his ash-cart, and a flower-girl and baker whose respective wares had been dumped on the cobblestones—remained irritated and infuriated, but the rest seemed to smile and understand, for they recognized Wolf and Colin as heroes, and knew that Virginia would be returning this day.

After another twenty minutes the Piper made it out the city gates and down the hill to the farmplains that spread for leagues and leagues before becoming deciduous forest. Wolf was already standing on a wall between a field of rampion and one of wheat, blocking out the sun with one hand over his eyes so he could see. "There they are!" he howled joyfully.

Colin looked up—and gasped.

High overhead, wheeling against the blazing sun so that its rays were scattered about it in a coruscating nimbus, an enormous form hovered on gigantic leathery wings, like those of a bat. Every inch of the reptilian body was covered with ebony scales as black as the deepest night, as if a dark shroud were being drawn across the earth to screen away the light of day—a comparison that was not far off the mark, since his body seemed to eclipse the sun itself.

Larger and larger the dragon grew, utterly titanic in size, filling his vision until nothing else could be seen. Heat and sulfur and steam and smoke wafted out around him, chokingly thick and scalding, and Colin had to stumble back into the rows of rampion. Finally there came a colossal crunch and the scraping of talons, and then a vast settling as the dragon landed.

Slowly the smoke cleared, and the dragon came into view. Perched atop the wall, its clawed feet gripping the stone as if it were upon a mountain peak, it loomed higher and higher, and it was all the Piper could do not to shriek in gibbering terror and run away screaming. The monstrosity was gargantuan, as tall as his own castle! The shadow he cast over the fields was incredible, as if a fortress of basalt and granite had suddenly thrust up from the soil to dominate the landscape.

The wings stretched and flexed, furling and unfurling with ease, while a sinuous, serpentine tail adorned with unbelievably sharp spikes longer than he was tall whipped and slashed about restlessly. Above, the great head-fan spread and shivered like plant stalks, while the gruesome maw parted to reveal fire-blackened teeth and a forked tongue slithering forth in a sly grin.

Finally, after standing frozen in terror for five minutes, the Piper was able to tear his eyes from that horrific visage and its contemptuous glare to look back along the undulating neck—and there he saw Virginia, perched directly between the vast shoulderblades and in front of the wings, clinging to the scaled flesh and body armor as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Her dress was somewhat tattered and singed, and her expression was indescribable—joyful, afraid, exhilarated, terrified, but ultimately enthralled.

Gazing up at her in shock and disbelief, Colin could not find any words to say. He had not realized the dragon would be so ugly, or so immense. Suddenly he found himself glad he was not returning to Castle White with the company, since it seemed the only way to get there in time was on the back of this beast. He knew it was wrong, but he could not help the prejudice, the instinctive fear as he ran his flickering eyes over the dragon. Not only did it engender primal flight patterns in his fluttering heart, but seeing how hugely tall it was, and how high it could fly, he knew he would never have withstood the journey back.

For, although his companions were not aware of it, the Piper was deathly afraid of heights.

Even as he stepped back a few more paces to give the dragon a wide berth, Virginia was sliding down carefully from the mammoth back, using protruding scales, bony growths of armor, and the jutting elbow joint of one foreleg to clamber to the wall. Wolf, to Colin's astonishment, was right there to catch her, not even showing a trace of fear, only running practiced eyes over the dragon's body as if assessing its capabilities before giving it a long, gauging look and taking Virginia in his arms.

Then they were kissing, embracing, whispering softly to each other, running their hands over each other's bodies, and all else was driven away. Managing to relax, the Piper could not keep the tears from his eyes as he watched them. Following their return from the lair of the ogre, he had sensed that there were no more walls between them and their relationship was restored. He had received further confirmation from the way they danced so romantically and tenderly at the ball.

But he had not known why until the previous night on the castle allure, when Wolf had explained that all was now in the open and had been forgiven. Thus it was that as he took in the fervent reunion, glad for the distraction from the dragon, Colin could appreciate even more the emotions it represented. All was not lost...the fear he had harbored all this time, that he had come between them and ruined their love, was finally calmed. He had not interfered with destiny after all. Wolf and Virginia were one again. And as long as he knew this, he knew nothing could stand in their way.

After another long ten minutes, there came a deep, rumbling cough and a billowing cloud of ashy smoke, and then the dragon writhed his neck down to the level of the humans to offer a smirk. "Thou needst not introduce me to thine effusive companion, milady," he chuckled. "I discern from his countenance and thy response that he is thy paramour, the noble Wolf." He paused, then turned to regard Colin, and despite the innocent, tender shade of baby blue that surrounded his depthless pupils, the prince could not help but tremble. "But who, prithee, art thou?"

For a moment he could not find his voice, but finally the Piper stuttered, "I-I-I am Prince Colin...th-th-the Pied P-piper. I h-have been aiding the L-lady Virginia in her quest, and it was I who b-broke the curse and f-freed the Sixth Kingdom."

"Indeed?" The dragon, who had been eyeing him with disdain and dismissal, most likely at his cowardly posture, now regarded him with respect and amazement. "Then thou art the prince of the legends...and all shouldst acknowledge thy worth and deeds. I have dwelt within this accursed land for nigh on a century, I have seen questors come and go. Some have ne'er penetrated the unyielding thorns and brambles; others have gained entrance by guile, cleverness, or sheer luck, only to be felled by fatal riddles, puzzles, and traps. Only thou hast unwoven the enigma, navigated the perilous enchantment to awaken the Sleeping Beauty. I ne'er have seen its like, nor believed I would see this day come, e'en in mine extended lifetime. The Kingdoms are in thy debt, Piper."

Stunned, Colin could only smile weakly and nod in reply, as he took another step backward. To be congratulated and praised by a dragon was something he had never envisioned, and it did fill him with pride, but he could not help wishing the creature were not so close.

Meanwhile, Virginia had finally broken the last kiss, flushing with embarrassment and arousal, and turned to face him, although she still remained in Wolf's arms. "I did it, Colin! I did it, I found the dragon! Now we can defeat the Ice Queen!" She beamed and caressed his scales, then gazed up at him questioningly, as if seeking permission, before continuing. "His name is Daviander, but don't tell anyone else, not even Briar Rose. Dragons are very protective of their names, they hold them sacred. You two get to learn it because you're my friends, but to everyone else he has to be known as the Last Dragon."

As Wolf and Virginia hopped down to the ground, the Piper nodded agreeably, still not taking his eyes off of the dragon. "Fair enough, milady. I don't think it will be very difficult to follow that stricture in any case. Now...if we are done here, the king and queen wish to say farewell before you depart on your journey...and I would suggest changing your clothes." He glanced in the direction of the castle, then ran his eyes over her raiment.

"Oh yes! Good idea, Colin...and I wouldn't dream of leaving without saying good-bye to Queen Rapunzel." Virginia crossed to his side, hanging onto Wolf's hand as she dragged him along, but a frown was on her face. "But what do you mean, before 'you' depart? Aren't you coming along with us?"

The Piper sighed, knowing this moment was coming but still not relishing it now that it was here. "That is one of the things we must discuss before you go. But come, I shall tell you on the way." He paused, swallowing hard as he gazed once more at the dragon. "I...I suggest that Daviander remain here, if you do not mind, sir. You are our salvation, but matters being as they are..."

"...I would send the entire court into a panic," Daviander finished knowingly. "Nay, we would ne'er wish to create such a disturbance. 'Twould be quite unnecessary in any case, the royals and I move in different circles." His urbane tone and lofty gaze implied a superiority and arrogance that Colin could not conclusively identify as either genuine or feigned for humorous effect. "Go ye even unto the palace, by all means, and I shall await your return with bated breath whilst I perform my matinal ablutions. Ye need not concern yourselves with me, no one shall know I am here. 'Twould be a far different matter were I to accompany you. I am, shall we say, difficult to ignore...and far too...big-boned to enter the castle."

He chuckled deeply, a wry, amused sound that made Colin want to laugh along with him, it was infectious. "A myriad of fragile objects there might suffer a grievous accident...china, porcelain, stained-glass windows, the entire castle of Queen Rapunzel..." He smirked.

Even as he wondered worriedly what sort of "ablutions" the dragon might indulge in—the blood of his prey came to mind—Colin could not help himself, at this he did begin to laugh, merrily and with great frivolity, and soon the dragon, Wolf, and Virginia had joined him. Slowly he felt his fear and distrust of the beast start to fade. No one who had such a droll and dry wit could be evil or demonic. His fears were unfounded. In their place came curiosity and awe.

What _had_ Virginia said to him? By all accounts the dragon had been a dour, glowering, downright grouchy beast for well over a century. Seeing the change wrought in the dragon convinced Colin more than ever that the Lady Virginia was indeed able to work miracles, possessing the intelligence, determination, and magic to be the heroine of a new Golden Age...

"I understand you perfectly, Daviander," the Piper gasped at last as he caught his breath. "Fret not, we shan't be long." With newfound respect in his eyes, he took Virginia's free hand.

The three of them set off at once for the city and the castle, but as they neared the gates, Colin looked back. The dragon lay languidly atop the wall, as if he were a fine lady reclining on her bed for an afternoon siesta, but when he saw Colin looking, Daviander winked with one azure eye and rolled over on his back, bursting out in new peals of giddy laughter as he kicked his legs and lashed his tail. The Piper shook his head, grinning. Virginia had done the impossible indeed.

Within half an hour Virginia had freshened up, changed her garments, and returned to the throne room where it had all begun, and by that time almost the entire court had assembled, including Briar Rose. As the Piper stood with Wolf and kept his arm looped familiarly around the waist of the princess he loved with all his heart and soul, he saw with a note of vindication that Virginia once more wore the clothing she had during their adventure, and slung across her shoulders was the pack that held the Troll King's magic shoes.

It had taken some firm and determined words on his part to convince the maids and the laundrywomen not to throw out the strange and unusual garments, until he had pulled rank as the prince consort, and the castle steward had insisted on keeping such dangerous magical items as the shoes locked in a cabinet in his private chamber along with the pipe, until Colin had threatened to go to King Arundel.

It had felt unnatural to be so domineering and authoritative—back in his own court in the Fourth Kingdom he was used to getting his own way. All of his subjects and staff obeyed his every command with alacrity, so that all ran smoothly and there was even at times an air of relaxation and recreation. But although enforcing his will brought a new layer to his life as a prince, it was not all that unwelcome. In fact it made him feel stronger, more worthy of respect. He drew himself up imperceptibly.

Virginia came to him without preamble, taking his free hand and squeezing it tightly. "I'm going to miss you, Colin, I really am." Tears were in her eyes, and her voice was quavery, as if her heart were in her throat. On the way back to the castle, he had gently explained to her his decision to stay, to remain with his true love, and although she had argued that they could use his magic, she had understood, and once he had stressed the strength of Daviander's magic and her own, as well as his fear of heights, she had given in, albeit reluctantly.

"Milady..." The Piper, too, found his voice about to break. They had not been together long at all, in terms of the quest's chronology and their overall lifetimes, but still they had traveled great distances together...in more ways than one, through so many emotions. "Milady, you cannot know how deeply it pleases me to hear you say such a thing. Our first meeting was, to say the least, unfortunate and marred by my intense selfishness. I wish I could undo it...not the meeting itself, but the manner of it. And yet, after that, the fact that you can still tell me you will miss me, will think of me fondly, warms my heart."

"Not too warm, I hope..." Wolf muttered, but the lopsided smile and bold wink he gave Colin told the prince the comment was meant only in jest.

Chuckling, Virginia glanced at Wolf, then returned her eyes to the Piper. In them he saw something he had not seen before...a friendship, a trust, even a sort of love. "Don't worry, Colin, I forgave you for that long ago. Besides, you've changed a lot since then."

"Indeed I have, and it is all because of you, milady. You, and the Princess Briar Rose." He leaned in to kiss his beloved, to inhale her sweet and elusive fragrance. When he pulled back after a long while, she was smiling and her cheeks displayed an even deeper pink to match her gown, which was of royal damask. But as he gazed at her, he suddenly realized the truth of his words.

After the dust had settled, after he had understood that this was not a dream and that he truly did possess the true love he had sought for so long, he had divined at once that his pipe had not failed him after all, that it had summoned Virginia at the behest of destiny, knowing he had been foreordained to be one of her company, to aid her in her quest, and to receive his reward for this service along the way in the form of Briar Rose.

What he had not realized until this moment was the meaning of the May Queen's words. In the misty valley of the Second Kingdom, following the chase by the sprites and preceding the enchanted growth of the hedge maze, the nature spirit had proclaimed that he was exempt from her laws, that unlike Virginia, Wolf, and Carmine, what he required would be given to him by another. That other, he saw now, was Briar Rose.

The May Queen had known his destiny even then, and had known that all he needed to fulfill his life was his true love...she who would make him happy, but who was also perfectly matched to him. The way the princess had seen straight into his heart almost upon meeting him, and the way she encouraged and directed him to be a better man than he had been...this revealed Briar Rose was the one for him.

Even as he was still struggling with the enormity of this revelation, as he ran his hand through the princess's ebony locks as if he still could not believe she were real and that she loved him—which he could not—Virginia was speaking again. "I'm glad you think so, Colin. But I bet Wolf doesn't think so, and that he's glad to see you gone." She was glaring at Wolf, half-mockingly, but half-seriously.

"Actually, Virginia," Wolf answered her with a straight face, "I believe the princey has changed. He's not such a bad guy, once you get to know him."

Virginia's mouth dropped open, and it was all Colin could do not to laugh. She glanced back and forth, from the prince to Wolf, a suspicious and cagey look on her face. "All right, what's going on here? What haven't you guys told me?"

Colin smiled, rather enjoying this chance to take Virginia by surprise; by mutual consent he and Wolf had agreed not to inform her of the cooling of the animosity between them until she asked about it. "While you were fetching the Last Dragon, milady, Wolf and I came to an understanding. Suffice it to say that while he and I will not always see eye to eye on matters, we have agreed to let bygones be bygones, and to respect and trust one another."

Again Virginia narrowed her eyes, as if she sought some loophole that would allow hostilities to be declared anew. Then she turned slowly to Wolf. "Is what he says true? You used to hate his guts, and now you're his best buddy?"

The half-wolf coughed loudly and looked, ironically, sheepish. "Now, I wouldn't go that far, my creamy, dreamy dumpling! I'm not saying I'd like him to build a summer home next door to our forest residence in the Fourth Kingdom, or that he should rent the neighboring penthouse in New York. Not by a long shot! I've just...he and I talked a lot, and we settled our differences. I realized I was wrong about Colin." He shrugged and smiled apologetically.

His mate's expression went through so many contortions the Piper couldn't keep track of them, but he knew he saw consternation, amusement, anger, and disbelief in Virginia's eyes. Finally she seemed to settle on disgruntled. "I see...seems I missed a lot while I was gone. You'll have to tell me about it later, Wolf...in great detail." She shot him another look that would have cracked ice, and Wolf gulped visibly. The Piper carefully hid a grin with his hand. Things seemed to be back to normal...and he had a feeling Wolf would be explaining all the way back to Castle White—especially about that forest residence quip which, from the look on Virginia's face, had _not_ been a mutual decision...

"Anyway," Virginia said after a while, her expression clearing as she turned back to the prince and princess, "I guess we'll both be sorry to see you go, then. And I wish we could be here for your wedding, but duty calls. Time for Super-Virginia to save the day again!" She rolled her eyes in self-mockery and laughed.

Before Colin could hasten to gainsay her, or inquire what she meant by her use of the word "super," Briar Rose stepped in. "On the contrary, Lady Virginia, you will have no trouble at all in attending our wedding. Colin and I have decided to postpone it until after the Ice Queen has been defeated and the Kingdoms are safe again. And after your own wedding to Lord Wolf, of course." She smiled, dimples appearing in her cheeks, and nodded graciously. "Neither of us should dare to miss it, or to act as if we sought to steal the attention away from what will be, by unanimous consent, the wedding of the century—and well deserved, too, I might add."

Colin nodded eagerly; during Virginia's absence both Wolf and Queen Rapunzel had informed him of her ancestry, and like Wolf he had not been surprised in the least to learn Virginia was a princess. He had always known her to be greater than she gave herself credit for. "Most assuredly! A princess and heroine of your status deserves the very best King Wendell has to offer. You can be certain that Briar Rose and I will attend the ceremony, and provide ample time for you and Wolf to attend ours at a later date."

Virginia looked nonplussed, then embarrassed as she blushed a furious red. Apparently, from the look she gave Wolf, neither her heritage nor the wedding were supposed to be common knowledge, but Colin could not blame Wolf for imparting the truth so impulsively; his love was so strong that he felt compelled to brag and boast about Virginia and how he had won her. But she did not seem to see it that way. "Somebody's been a bad wolfie and given away a few secrets..."

Wolf scratched self-consciously at his temple and pretended to be interested in one of the nearby tapestries.

Before Virginia could give Wolf a piece of her mind, the trumpets sounded in a brassy fanfare and they all turned toward the thrones where the king and queen had just seated themselves. "Pray silence," the page announced in ringing tones, "for our esteemed monarchs, who wish to convey their final gratitude to the hero and heroine. Lord Wolf, Lady Virginia, would you be so kind as to approach?"

Colin watched as Virginia's anger fled and she took Wolf's arm, proceeding with grace and dignity down the crimson carpet to the thrones, but she set a rapid pace to underscore the urgency of her mission and the need to avoid lengthy speeches. The Piper followed her with Briar Rose on his arm, coming to a stop just behind the two heroes.

Queen Rapunzel spoke first, her expression warm and proud as she gazed down at Virginia, her curls of sunshine blonde spilling in silken glory upon the dais. "Lady Virginia...from what Prince Colin has told me, your quest has been a success...you located the Last Dragon and persuaded him to join your cause. Now all that lies before you is the confrontation with the Ice Queen. You did not believe me at first when I assured you that you possessed all the skill, bravery, heart, and soul to succeed. Now you know I was right.

"I wish you all the best, in your endeavors against the witch's sorcery, and in your destined future that you have so rightfully earned. Thank you—for bringing Colin here to awaken my daughter and free us of the spell, and for once again risking your life for the lands. As far as I am concerned, you are not only one of the Four Who Saved the Nine Kingdoms, but the Sixth Woman Who Changed History."

A collective gasp filled the throne room, rippling and spreading throughout all the courtiers—not one of disagreement or anger, but one of awe and understanding, one of recognition of the truth, and wholehearted acceptance of it. Virginia seemed to falter, her knees buckling as if she were about to faint, and Wolf had to grab her around the waist and hold her upright for a few moments. Colin himself was stunned.

Such an honor was unheard of—not that Virginia did not deserve it, of course, but as far as he knew, the decision of whether to grant such status to a woman of great influence and power was up to the entire Council of the Nine Kingdoms. But then, as one of the Five Women herself, Rapunzel could likely bypass the Council altogether. And even should the more traditional, obstinate, and elitist Council members disapprove, the weight of Rapunzel's endorsement would likely carry the day. Still...

Even as the buzzing and gossiping continued, King Arundel raised his hand for silence, and received it. "I know all of you are surprised and amazed by this announcement, but I wish to declare publicly and unilaterally that I support my queen's decision. And I have an announcement of my own to make." He paused, then looked at Wolf. "Lord Wolf, I am certain you know that in the time from which I hail, wolves were seen as filthy, murdering animals who deserved only contempt and hatred, and that they were killed on sight. And I must confess that while I was never as rabid in my opinions as others of the time whom we both can name, I too was guilty of distrusting, rejecting, and devaluing your people.

"But, time has passed, the Nine Kingdoms have moved forward, and while hatred of wolves is far from vanquished, it is, I think, a thing that should be relegated to the past and remain there. It is you who has convinced me of this. Not only were you also instrumental in bringing the Piper here, but my daughter has informed me of all that you have done for the Kingdoms. Thus, it is my royal decree that we all, every one of us, owe you a debt of thanks. Henceforth, wolves shall nevermore be hunted or poached in my Kingdom."

Applause filled the throne room, and now it was Wolf's turn to be on the verge of collapse, and Colin understood why. Although all the monarchs had been grateful to Wolf after what occurred at Wendell's coronation, none of them had been required to uphold the young king's pardon, nor had they seemed to have any inclination to do so. Having been an attendee of the coronation ball himself, the Piper had been of the same mind as his king, and would gladly have seconded the pardon had he ruled a kingdom of his own, rather than being a vassal to Wendell.

But so far the only other Kingdom to support the pardon had been Cinderella's. Now that another had joined in the recognition of wolves as heroes—and not just any Kingdom, but the revered and powerful Sixth Kingdom—others were likely to follow suit. In particular the Fifth, which had been Rapunzel's realm before she and Arundel had given it to Old King Cole and the Naked Emperor and then created their own kingdom, would respond favorably. As such, this move might well be the precursor to a universal pardon for wolves everywhere...especially if Carmine's heart had truly been changed...

Colin's thoughts were interrupted again as the king rose from his throne and gestured toward the bank of windows facing to the west. "With these proclamations, we send you on your way, for there is no more time to lose. Go at once, Lady Virginia, Lord Wolf. All of our hopes and prayers go with you. Godspeed."

Hurriedly Virginia turned back and moved to Colin, embracing him tightly and making him quite embarrassed. "Good-bye, Colin...I'll never forget you. See you soon...I hope." She pulled back, kissed him chastely on the cheek, and then turned to say farewell to Briar Rose.

Wolf approached next, eyes bright and still excited with the news he had just received, a huge grin on his face. "So long, Piper-boy! Good-bye and good riddance!" He smirked and winked, then shook Colin's hand before bowing to the princess, then leading Virginia across the marble floor to the windows, where a helpful servant had unlatched the adjoining glass doors set in their center, letting in the scent of sweet grass on the sun-warmed air.

Still blushing from Virginia's kiss, Colin took Briar Rose's hand and walked with her to the doors, watching as Wolf and Virginia descended the seven steps into the side garden of the castle, picking their way along white-stoned lanes between fountains and pink rosebushes in glorious bloom. Then, as if he had known they were coming and needed his presence, Daviander suddenly burst over the rise below the garden wall, letting out a piercing shriek of defiance and grandeur.

Everyone in the throne room rushed to the windows to see what was occurring, but contrary to the Piper's surmises, when they saw the Last Dragon they did not run screaming in fear. Instead every face was upturned in awe and respect, none more than that of his fiancée, Briar Rose. In her hazel eyes he saw reflected a childish wonder, an inner delight that nearly stopped his heart. And as he looked out once more over the garden and saw the ebony-scaled beast looping and dodging and spiraling about in feats of aerial prowess, he began to see Daviander as she did...as a majestic, wondrous, handsome creature, the last of his kind and bearer of a magic ancient, mysterious, and incomparable...a magic that should never be lost to the Nine Kingdoms.

The dragon pirouetted one last time in the azure sky and then leveled off, hovering alongside the garden wall as his wings flapped grandly, stirring up dust, leaves, grassblades, and pebbles. "The day is wearing on!" he proclaimed loudly. "Shall we, perchance, be on our way?"

Virginia giggled and nodded, hurrying along the path to the wall and clambering up a grapevine with Wolf's help. Then together the two of them in turn scaled the dragon's foreleg until they were seated between his shoulderblades, ready for takeoff. Virginia waved frantically to all those assembled, and then with another roar, a blast of fire, and a massive downbeat of his wings, Daviander was aloft, circling high into the sky.

Colin watched them go, his heart beating rapidly, his tears flowing, until he felt a gentle tug at his elbow. Turning, he gazed down into the heart-stopping eyes of Briar Rose, and slowly his tears faded as his love for her once more burned within him.

"Do not cry, milord," the Sleeping Beauty admonished him softly. "They are off to perform their great deeds...and you, you still have me. And I love you."

"I most certainly do have you...and I love you as well, beloved." He enfolded her in his arms and whispered teasingly. "And shall we live Happy Ever After?"

"Of course we shall," she whispered back just as teasingly. "Of course we shall."

And then she kissed him, long and lingeringly, and the Pied Piper responded without a trace of hesitation. He swept her into his arms and kissed her back, his destiny found, as they stood in the shimmering rays of noonday sun pouring in the windows, as the king and queen and their court applauded, for whom he knew not. And he kissed her as, in the sky above, the Last Dragon and his passengers shrank to a speck and vanished eastward...traveling, ever traveling, toward a destiny of their own.


	19. Eighteen: Flight to the Fourth Kingdom

**Eighteen**: Flight to the Fourth Kingdom

Rising on a massive updraft, his leathery wings unfurled to their greatest extent, Daviander could not help but release a roar of triumph and pride as he circled in ever-broadening sweeps above the smooth marble walls and flapping pennants of Queen Rapunzel's castle. He felt more alive and free than he had in a century, more wild and reckless and brimming with energy.

Higher and higher and higher he soared, until the castle shrank to a shining white finger far far below, and all that could be seen was the fertile fields and forests of the Sixth Kingdom and the thick, swirling clouds that now surrounded them. Stretching his wings into taut sails, he coasted and glided on the warm currents of the air, screeching his delight. He was free!

From atop his back he heard other shrieks, a mixture of terror and exhilaration, and then the Lady Virginia screamed out to him over the wind. "Daviander! Don't you...think...this is...high enough?" Her voice sounded strained, as if she were trying to keep it steady, but he could still hear it trembling.

He laughed uproariously and changed direction, angling back and forth across the sky as he flitted from one gust to another. "Thou thinkest this high, milady? Thou hast not seen e'en the barest reaches of the heavens!" Grinning evilly, he tensed his powerful shoulders, flapped his wings, and put on a burst of speed, shooting through the air at breakneck speed. He could hear Virginia and her mate, Wolf, screaming and flailing in panic, but he knew they had nothing to fear. His inherent magic kept them affixed to his back as if they had been bonded to his armor by the heat of a forge. There was no way they could tumble free.

Daviander smirked. Of course, they did not know this.

Extending his talons before him, he let out another colossal roar and streaked even faster through the clouds, deciding impulsively to show the humans what a dragon was _truly_ capable of. The wind buffeted past them at near-gale force as he whipped from side to side, rising and falling, climbing and diving—at times in smooth motions, at others in heart-stopping lurches that made the screams of his passengers even more desperate and frantic.

Laughing almost maniacally, Daviander upped the ante, plunging into the thickest and heaviest cloud formations, whirling and rotating with the winds, and then he turned completely upside-down.

"DAVIANDER!" Virginia screamed even more piercingly, her voice nearly lost to the wind and the straining of her vocal cords. "What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" She began to swear profusely, but her words soon faded when she realized she was still anchored firmly to his back.

Not even bothering to answer her, the dragon did not slow or alter his flight pattern, in fact he sped all the faster and continued to spiral, twisting around and around in a convoluted corkscrew that constantly traded directions until it was impossible to tell which way was up and which was down—impossible for anyone but a dragon, that is. Still wriggling and undulating his supple spine, Daviander arched his back and hurled himself back in a grand, stunning loop-the-loop, maintaining his corkscrew at the same time. His wings beat constantly, guiding and controlling his movements, and the burning of exertion in the muscles of his chest, shoulders, and back was at once welcome and long overdue.

Cloud and mist and fog whipped past them as he flew, at times as thin as a veil, at others as thick and impenetrable as a wall of ice. It rotated endlessly around them, churning and building and roiling as if a storm were developing, but it remained as pristine white as unmarred ivory, as if they were enfolded in the largest and softest blanket ever woven. It was both beautiful and incomprehensible, layer after layer of vapor and condensation that seemed to have no end. It threw off scintillating rays of light refracted by countless droplets of water until the entire sky around them blazed with an incandescence that, despite Daviander's jaded existence, took his breath away.

Finally, after half an hour of reckless flight and aerial feats that were astonishing for their perfection, their grace, and their total lack of hesitation or fear, the dragon ended his performance, twisting back to an upright position and aligning himself with the proper attitude. He straightened out, leveled his course, and slowed to a more gentle and reasonable speed, emerging from the cloud cover into a vast landscape of billowing white masses, sculpted and shaped by the wind into intricate designs and formations.

Below, through a wide gap in the clouds, Daviander's sharp eyes noted a darting winged silhouette, one most landwalkers were never privileged to see—a lone hawk, hovering effortlessly on the warm updrafts, its pinions frozen as it drifted lazily eastward. It let out its bold, challenging cry, but he knew it to be false, a challenge met and surpassed. He was above the hawk, literally. He had more strength, power, and cunning, he was not only the lord of the land, but the lord of the air. He had remained cowardly hidden within his den for far too long, and now he had emerged to reclaim his throne, to reestablish his reign of invincible might.

He had forgotten for a time, he had persuaded himself that nothing mattered, but now that he was free, now that he could experience again the wonder and glory, the status and truth, he realized what he had been missing, and what was required of him by all who had gone before. He was the Last Dragon, and he had a duty to perform.

And it was all thanks to the Lady Virginia, a human like none he had ever met before, or would meet again, he wagered. Glancing back at her to assess her condition, he had to stifle a laugh at her windblown hair, wild and restless eyes, and haggard appearance. When she saw him looking, she snarled, very unlady-like, and balled her fists, pounding them down on his shoulders. "Don't you _ever_ do that again!" she hissed furiously.

At this Daviander did lapse into laughter. "Oh come now, milady, where is thy sense of whimsy? Thou shouldst learn to relax, to enjoy thyself, to experience excitement." Humans were so stuffy and pretentious, they had no sense of entertainment.

"I think I've had enough excitement to last me a long time, Daviander," she growled. "We're supposed to be heading for Castle White, so we can stop the Ice Queen, not indulge your urge to joyride. I happen to hate roller coasters, I don't need a fantasy version of one!"

The dragon had no idea what a roller coaster was, but he could tell she was indeed a trifle green, and she held her stomach protectively. Reminded of her being with cub, a fact he had conveniently forgotten, he felt intense shame and contrition. He had been completely irresponsible, and the fact that he had high spirits over being free and given hope for the future was no excuse.

But possessing such towering pride and ego, he could not bring himself to ask forgiveness, so instead he approached the matter obliquely. "Thou wert in no real danger, milady," he assured her, mollified. "My magic kept thee secure at all times, there wast no possibility of an unplanned descent. But I shall refrain from such activity in future, by thy leave."

"Thank you, Daviander," Virginia said, in relief and gratitude. Then a quirky smile formed on her lips as she ran a hand over her thigh. "Well, at least we can be glad of one thing, I wasn't wearing a skirt or a dress to flash people down below!" She tittered in embarrassment.

"Indeed." The dragon ran his eyes disapprovingly over her clothing, however. He had never seen its like before, and it had shocked him when first he saw it as she climbed aboard his back. It might well be decorous in the sense she described, but it did not befit a lady of her station. "Still, I might prefer thou wert still suitably attired. Thy raiment dost not accrue thee favor or respect, milady. A princess must ne'er be caught in peasants' garb."

"Well excuse me!" Virginia snapped. She sounded quite offended. "I never knew dragons were the fashion police! Next time I'll consult with you, I'm sure. I—" She abruptly cut off and stared ahead, a shocked and amazed expression on her face. "What's that?"

Daviander followed her pointing finger. A veritable cliff of cloud rose before them on the far side of the hollow in the sky, shimmering and glowing in the lambent light. One particular portion of it shone brighter than the rest, a pillar of mist that had been twisted and tattered into a shape reminiscent of a mountain peak. Within its heart a blazing argent light speared outward. Before he could answer Virginia, Wolf did. "Why that, my creamy darling, is a silver lining."

"What?" The skepticism and disbelief in her voice somehow bothered the dragon deeply. "But that's just an old wives' tale..." She trailed off, paused, and then laughed ruefully. "What am I saying? I'm riding a dragon, with a half-wolf, on my way to face an Ice Queen, and I'm objecting over _this?"_ She paused again, and then a thoughtful and longing look crossed her face. "Is it real silver?"

"It is, milady." Gauging her mood, Daviander smiled craftily and began a slow circuit of the cloud-valley as he gazed back at her. "Wouldst thou care to examine it in fine detail from closer quarters?" This would be an interesting test...was she truly as selfless as she seemed? She was, after all, human. Besides, there was another layer to the challenge, one on which their quest might well hinge...one that required a certain finesse on his part in eliciting the proper reaction.

"Please..." Virginia could not seem to take her eyes off the lining, its glorious light bathing her face even at this distance in ripples of luminescence.

Complying wordlessly, the dragon circled silently through the clouds, unerringly and inexorably approaching the pillar and its valuable cargo. The closer they drew, the brighter the light became, until it was so blindingly white that Virginia and Wolf had to cover their eyes. Even Daviander, with his magically enhanced sight, had to squint against the glare.

Then, abruptly, it faded out as they passed some invisible demarcation, and the pillar loomed above them like a thunderhead's anvil.

Extending from the haze above into the murk below, the silver lining cascaded down like a vast waterfall, shining in a heart-stopping vision of loveliness, rippling and flowing in the breeze. It seemed to burn with an inner fire, drifting on the wind, ethereal and fragile yet paradoxically stronger and more resilient than any substance known to man.

As they hovered before it, lazily gliding in concentric paths about the pillar, Virginia extended one hand in awe. "I've never seen anything so beautiful before..." She seemed drawn to it as lightning to the earth, mesmerized as they continually circled it. "Can I touch it?" she ventured softly.

"Of course." Daviander glanced askance at her, gauging and judging, considering and contemplating. "Thou mayest even gather some for thine own, to keep and to cherish."

Virginia seemed startled and enthralled by this possibility, but Wolf placed a cautionary hand on her arm, gripping tighter than might otherwise seem necessary. "Sweetheart, we are in a hurry...and we don't really need any silver. It can't help us in our mission." The dragon could see in his fearful eyes, hear in the unique emphasis of his words, that he knew the inherent danger of the lining, but he said not a word regarding it, for just as he opened his mouth again to do so, Daviander narrowed his eyes to slits and glared at him in warning, growling softly. Wolf's eyes turned golden in response, and as his fangs were exposed, for a moment the dragon tensed for the incipient mid-air attack. Wolves were so impulsive! He did not wish to buck Virginia's mate from his back, yet if it came to violence...

But gradually, sullenly, Wolf backed down, his eyes returning to their normal green. Daviander kept a close eye on him regardless. Wolf must surely know that there could be no contamination of the test, that Virginia had to decide on her own, without influence of the true nature of the silver lining's magic. It was a terrible risk, but the future of the Kingdoms were at stake, and the dragon had just stressed in no uncertain terms that he would not tolerate interference. They could lose all if Wolf did not stay quiet! And he knew it. Even so, this did not stop Wolf's hands from clenching and unclenching, on the verge of reaching out to rescue his mate, displaying poignantly his longing to protect his beloved from all that threatened her. In spite of what hung in the balance, Daviander felt a keen sense of pity. How this must be torturing Wolf...

"I know," Virginia answered Wolf absently, as if she knew no such thing, oblivious to the exchange that had just taken place. "But it's still so beautiful..." Slowly she reached out, her fingertips brushing the silvery surface, making it shimmer and quiver in metallic ecstasy. Again Daviander watched her. Would she succumb to the temptation, and take a portion of what did not rightfully belong to her, as so many other humans had in life, and be cursed by it? Could he have been wrong about her, and she was in fact no different from any other vain woman? He did not think so...but then he did not truly know her...

For a moment it seemed she would disappoint him, would be conquered by her greed and grasp a hank of silver to tear free. But then at the last second she seemed to start, shaking her head violently as if breaking free of a trance, and her hand jerked back at once. Amazement still registered in her blue eyes, but there was also a certain fear there, even a repugnance. "No...no, I can't take any. It would be wrong. It belongs here, with nature, where it was created."

The silver lining seemed to sigh in relief, retreating from her hand, and Daviander too relaxed, closing his eyes and smiling a tiny smile of vindication as he felt Wolf also go limp between his shoulders. He hadn't been wrong. Virginia had a noble soul. "Thou hast made the correct choice, milady. And because thou hast, because thou passedst the test and chosest to leave the lining pristine and untouched, its curse hath been voided, transformed to a blessing. Simply touch it, milady, and make a wish, and it shall come true."

Virginia stared at him in distress and horror as he so blithely revealed what would have happened had she chosen wrongly, but then her expression smoothed out to awe and a certain naive delight at the prospect of a wish guaranteed to come true. "Well, I know what to wish for..." Reaching out again, she laid her hand against the lining, gasping as she felt the tingle of its magic, and then she squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated, not speaking her wish aloud as was the rule if one wished it to be granted.

The lining flashed brilliantly, and then its cloud began to drift away on the prevailing wind, which carried it away on a perpendicular course from theirs. The silver winked once, sparkling in the sunlight, as if secretly pleased with the outcome, and then it was gone, hidden by another cloudbank.

"Good-bye..." she whispered wistfully after it. After a long moment she shook herself, then looked candidly at him. "You knew what would happen?" Then she stared at Wolf angrily. "You _both_ did?"

"I did." He nodded in acknowledgement, without apology, even as he observed Wolf's agonized expression at withholding the peril from her. "But it wast for thine own good. Thou hadst to choose on thine own, neither Wolf nor I could help thee, the test wast far too crucial to be abrogated. An either of us had told thee of the curse, the blessing would have dissolveth as well and been denied us. But now, now that thou hast wished, our mission shall be a success."

That was a half-truth, for just as the ominous enchantment of the silver lining was a double-edged sword, slicing two ways as blessing or curse, even the blessing itself had its darker elements. For while the wishes of a silver lining always came true, no one could predict the manner of their manifestation, or what their terrible cost might be, what sacrifices they might require. Sometimes a silver lining brought Happy Ever After...and sometimes not. But none of this was anything Virginia needed to know, it would only frighten her.

Wolf, meanwhile, had taken her hands and was squeezing them gently, stroking them over and over again as if by this soothing gesture he could make up for not protecting her. "What Daviander says is true, my love. I wanted to tell you so very very badly, and I wanted to keep you safe. But we had to chance it...we need all the help we can get in gaining an edge against the Ice Queen."

His eyes were hopeful and pleading for her to understand. Then he turned to Daviander. "Sorry for growling at you back there...I was just trying to protect her...and I didn't like the way you were taking over like that." The admission was reluctant, a relinquishing of some dominance in favor of harmony within the company.

"No offense taken," the dragon replied urbanely. He understood better than Wolf thought he did, and appreciated the sentiment and support.

For a while it looked as if Virginia were about to give her mate a shrewish tongue-lashing. But finally, disgruntled, she sighed and gazed down at her hands for a long moment. Then she leaned back into Wolf's chest and smiled at him. "Well...all right, if you say so. But, now that that's settled, can we go back down closer to the ground?"

"With pleasure, milady." Daviander winked at her and flapped his wings, banking through the clouds in a gentle, gradual descent. Several crises had been averted there...but what still lay ahead, only the Guardians of Destiny knew.

When they emerged from the clouds to fly once more within sight of the Sixth Kingdom, the dragon was amazed anew. The curse of brambles and thorns had covered the land for so very long that even he, with his phenomenal memory, had trouble recalling what it looked like when it was alive and green. To see it restored was something of a shock. He had never cared anything for the Nine Kingdoms, not since he had gone into his self-imposed exile, and so the slumbering spell that had enchanted this land had meant little to him. At times he had idly speculated on whether it would ever be broken, and if so when it would happen and who the prince would be. But he had never believed it would happen, and in truth he had not cared.

But now, beholding the wondrous expanse of forests and fields, farms and plains, villages and rivers, Daviander could not help but feel a sense of pleasure and inner warmth. Many thought dragons incapable of appreciating anything of aesthetic value, but that was a grave misunderstanding. A dragon's den was chosen for its defensibility and access, not its beauty, but dragons admired and respected the land around them. In truth he had never enjoyed seeing the Sixth Kingdom so lifeless and barren, and it pleased him now to see it restored.

In only two hours they had crossed the entire kingdom and returned to the border of the Second Kingdom. Beyond the watchposts and gatehouses it was clear that the magical restoration had spread far into the land, enlivening the soil and causing countless crops to spring to life. The peasants who lived there were now in the fields, still dazed at the change in their fortunes as they eagerly tilled the ground and tended the plants that would bring them their livelihoods and end their starvation.

As she gazed down, Virginia's jaw dropped. "It...it's like the curse was never cast!" She sounded like a child seeing the world for the first time. "When we came through here before, everything was dead, the people were hopeless and despairing...and now...now..." Tears came to her eyes. "We've freed them too...they may never know us or thank us, but we've still freed them."

On that uplifting and heart-warming note, they proceeded on eastward across the Second Kingdom. Daviander did not even attempt to conceal their presence, flying out in the open, in plain sight of the ground. Virginia noticed this after a moment, and he saw her peering down out of the corners of his eyes, frowning at the diligently working peasants who never once glanced up, screamed, or fled. Finally her curiosity seemed to get the better of her, and she asked, "Um...Daviander? Why aren't they running away? I mean, you _are_ a dragon, won't they think you're going to...um, strafe the fields?" Her words came reluctantly, worriedly; clearly she was afraid he would be offended at the suggestion.

But the dragon only laughed softly. "They cannot see us, milady. My magic conceals us from their eyes, we are camouflaged. Thou needst not fear for our safety, or that of the peasants. As time passeth, thou shalt learn how truly the powers of dragons extend far beyond thine imaginings. One of the many reasons, I submit, that a magic mirror didst inform thee I was the key to defeating the Ice Queen."

Virginia remained silent, stunned and wondering.

For the rest of that day they traveled on with little conversation, and after a while the flight became routine, then dull and monotonous. Daviander caught himself yawning several times, but luckily even if he had succumbed to sleep, his wings would have continued bearing them onward, acting on instinct and magic. The landscape of the Second Kingdom did not seem as miraculous as that of the Sixth, so that nothing there held his attention for very long, and his companions seemed content to ride without speaking, most likely worn out from all of their travels.

At times he glanced back at them. Sometimes Virginia would be gazing down at the distant ground, bemused and attracted by what she saw below, the peaceful countryside with its grazing cows and softly rustling trees. Now and then a flock of sheep would appear and Wolf would start drooling and whimpering in longing, and Virginia would have to divert his attention until they were past. It was actually rather amusing. Sometimes Virginia only leaned back against Wolf, a troubled and frightened expression on her face, and Daviander guessed she was pondering what lay ahead and the intense danger they would all combat. At least she was being realistic.

By sunset they had reached the edge of what Virginia called the forest of Benjamin Tell, and Daviander declared they would set down for the night. Beneath the sheltering boughs of the trees, the human and the half-wolf erected a campsite, building a fire and unpacking the provisions they had been given back at the castle. The dragon departed quietly, on ghostlike wings, to hunt for his own dinner. By the time he had caught and devoured a mammoth grizzly bear and returned, Wolf and Virginia too had finished and were sitting around the fire, conversing animatedly. Not wishing to intrude, Daviander settled down at the edge of the clearing, his wings folded neatly and his forelegs tucked beneath his massive chest, claws splayed.

He listened without comment as the two heroes spoke of many inconsequential things—food, snuggling, their last visit within these woods, the Pied Piper and their mixed feelings regarding him. Daviander perked up slightly at this, wondering what could be amiss, as far as he could tell the young prince had been an upstanding man and good-hearted, if a tad arrogant. What could he have done to warrant such uncertain feelings? But then Virginia and Wolf moved on to a long and, as far as the dragon was concerned, completely ludicrous discussion of where they would live after they were married and whose right it was to choose their home.

Humans were so frivolous and improper. He knew without a doubt that it was Wolf's place as the male to choose and build the home that would protect and shelter him and his mate for the rest of their lives, and the sooner Virginia realized that, the better. Like wolves, dragons were extremely protective of their mates, so Daviander could sympathize with Wolf and understand his frustration as he tried to explain his rationale. After the silver lining incident, he deserved this chance to redefine his dominant role as custom and instinct demanded.

But that sympathy did not extend to entering the conversation. Although both Wolf and Virginia included him now and then in their comments, Daviander did not feel at all a part of the proceedings. He did not belong, he was not accepted, or so he felt. Despite his tail which circled the clearing and kept them enclosed in safety, the dragon knew he had no place in the discussion. He might as well not even be in this forest, he had been pushed so far away.

This realization grew on him the longer he listened, until by the time Virginia finally agreed to think it over and broach the matter to Wendell after he was rescued, Daviander was in a distinctly dour and bitter mood. Even after the others finally lay down and slept, he remained with his head resting upon his forefeet, resentment churning and boiling inside of him. It took him a long time to fall asleep, and when he did he dreamt of impossible things—humans accepting and trusting of dragons, others of his kind alive and well and ready to embrace him into their clans should the humans reject him.

The second day passed much as the first had, except that once they were on their way aloft once more, Daviander's mood became even more sour and dark, until he had lost much of his good humor and returned almost to the state in which Virginia had found him. At first he thought it was because of being excluded at the campfire the previous evening, but after silently pondering the matter, he knew that was only peripheral, that he had been used to rejection all his life. While it was true Virginia was like no other human in his experience, he had secretly expected her to revert to form at some point, and so its coming, albeit inadvertently, did not truly sear his heart.

His next conclusion, then, was that he was affected by a bit of alarming and disturbing news he learned over the course of the flight. Around noon they passed over the red-brick walls of Incarnadine, the Second Kingdom's capital, and Wolf remarked that he wondered what Carmine was up to. At that point Virginia and he began a frank and unabashed conversation about Red Riding Hood III, about their taking her hostage and making her their prisoner until, after finally breaking through the walls of her heart, she had escaped.

Daviander was appalled and horrified. Even as his passengers spoke without rancor or fury toward the queen, as they noted all the atrocities she had committed, and as they hoped aloud that she had seen the light and changed her ways, the dragon was only half-listening, shocked to the core.

It was not that he felt Red Riding Hood did not deserve her treatment. He knew all the tales and legends of the depravity and injustice committed by the House of Red in the name of prejudice. He even felt a kindred spirit with wolves. Nor did he have any particular yearning to be loyal to or admiring of royalty, considering what the House of White had done to his kind, which was most likely the reason Wolf and Virginia were so open in front of him. And the things they spoke of only cemented his belief that Carmine must be a truly cruel, vicious woman, on the order of those who had hunted his people to extinction.

No, what upset and discommoded him was the fact that Virginia could commit such acts of terrorism at all. However justified they might have been, he could not view them in anything but a negative light. He knew her stubbornness, her tenacity, her temper. Still, it shook him that a heroine, a princess, a savior of the lands who had appealed to him to end the division, to heal all wounds and defeat the forces of wickedness, had indulged in such violent acts. It did not make him lose respect for Virginia, no. But it did remind him vividly that she was only human.

Since the bonding of soul and heart they had experienced in his cave, he had felt her to be somehow above that, that through her pain and suffering she had been crystallized into a figure of destiny and truth, one with no flaws. He was not usually so naive, but the power, the surge of magic and memory, had overwhelmed him as nothing in his life had for decades. In the face of such an encounter it had been easy to dismiss Virginia's imperfections. But now he knew better. Now he knew her to be fallible, even more so than when she had been tempted by the silver lining, and so he began to doubt, doubt their chances of success—and he had not been that optimistic to begin with.

Yet even this was not all the reason for his change in temperament, he knew. Something deeper ran in cold sullen streams beneath Daviander's hide, and he could not identify what it was. It ate at him, nagged and annoyed and pestered him all the long hours of the hot summer day until he could not ignore it, until he was even more foul-tempered and impatient. He grew short with his companions, answering them only in curt responses of few words, until at last they became wary, learned to keep their distance. Which only exacerbated his loneliness and despair.

At the edge of Red Riding Hood Forest they put down again for the night, and once more the same preparations and activities occurred, although when he went hunting Daviander was so half-hearted and apathetic that all he caught was a lone cow, hardly worth the effort. Upon returning to the campfire, he paused in the shadows to listen, catching faint voices lowered in anguish and intense emotion. He knew that Virginia and Wolf were having another conversation, this one completely private, and so out of respect—and pain—he remained concealed by the cloaking foliage, his ebony scales, and his magic.

Most of the words were Wolf's, and they puzzled Daviander. He was constantly apologizing, saying he was wrong to say she didn't know what she was doing or how to take care of herself in the Kingdoms, that he was wrong to question her fidelity and honesty or to make an issue of her knowing men before him. He insisted fervently that she was his soulmate, not his possession, that he believed she always told the truth, and that he would always strive to give her everything she needed, everything she wanted.

Virginia in return pledged never to make him doubt her, swore that although she was independent, she would always need him and never leave him. She understood his need to protect and would respect it, if he would forgive her for her moment of weakness. He would always be enough for her, she whispered with tears in her eyes.

It rather sounded as if they were performing impromptu, informal wedding vows.

Slowly Daviander retreated into the forest, treading heavily and despondently back to the edge of the rolling plains. Then he flapped his wings, gathered his haunches, and leapt into the sky, which had just lost the last traces of crimson and orange, fading to violet and the deep blue of night.

This, he understood, was the final piece of the puzzle. Seeing Wolf and Virginia together, hearing them each take the blame for some intense and unknown conflict between them, hearing them promise to love and honor each other, that made Daviander aware of the true source of his change in mood. It was reality. Ever since the powerful and stirring speeches Virginia had made to him, ever since their communion together, he had been floating on air, so to speak. She had given him back a purpose for his life, she had instilled in him a sense of commitment and pride and loyalty he had thought forever lost. As such, he had been ecstatic, elated, overflowing with hope and good spirits.

But the passage of time had changed that. He had literally brought his head down out of the clouds; the initial rush of happiness, of expectancy for a grand future, of understanding his place in the world, had fled, and reality had returned with crashing force. The reality was so many things. It was that Virginia, for all her talk of loyalty, had in some way betrayed Wolf. It was that she had kidnapped a queen and held her hostage when she spoke of trust and an end to prejudice and hatred. It was that all of them were hurtling on toward their destinies without the slightest inkling of what they were doing, how they would go about it, whether they could even win the day. But most of all, it was that no amount of heroism and grandiloquent gestures could ever make him anything other than what he was.

And what he was was a dragon. A lone dragon. A mateless dragon. A cubless dragon. A worthless dragon.

Finding a solitary hill on which to settle and take stock, to meditate and withdraw from the world, Daviander flapped his wings once, then stretched them out as he plummeted to catch himself, letting him land delicately and soundlessly on the grassy soil. There he folded his wings and sighed, an exhalation that seemed to release so many emotions.

He still believed in Virginia. He did. She had done terrible things, to Wolf and to Red Riding Hood, yet she had also done wonderful, beautiful things, such as restoring the Sixth Kingdom and enabling a dragon with a heart of stone to care again. And he still wanted to trust her, to believe that all she said was true, that if ever there was one thing that could lend his life meaning again, it was this quest, this mission, this great deed.

But at the same time, he was no longer certain Virginia deserved trust. She was undeniably brave, the bravest woman he had ever met, and worthy...but she had betrayed Wolf, somehow, when all he wished was to worship the ground she walked on. How could anything she offered be trusted? In any case, her promises could never give him what he truly craved. And what was that? There were so many things, after all...

Gazing slowly up at the darkening sky, he watched like a monolithic gargoyle as one by one the jewel-like stars appeared, twinkling and shimmering at a distance so incalculable that even a dragon could never fly there in his lifetime. It was said in the dragon legends, which his parents had taught him as a hatchling, that each of the stars was the spirit of a departed dragon, that their incendiary breath fueled the hearts of those balls of stellar majesty. That shining realm above was where all dragons went when they died, assuming they had lived rightly and justly, that they had displayed the dignity, honor, and valor to earn their place beside their ancient brothers of the sky.

He knew not whether any of this was true. But it felt true in his heart. And what also felt true was that he would never earn this right. He did not belong in the stars, anymore than he did among the humans or around the campfire with Virginia and Wolf or anywhere at all in the Kingdoms. Virginia had promised him a reward for his services, if that was to be believed; after all, who knew what promises she had given the queen before kidnapping her, promises she never intended to keep. But even if he could trust her promises, she could not grant him celestial forgiveness.

For indeed he had sinned, in so many ways...he had refused to work for peace, he had slain and murdered—first in revenge and retaliation, then because it felt good inside, then because it became a habit and he knew nothing else to do, and then finally because he had nothing else to cling to. He had long ago given up on life, and only the same cowardice that had kept him hiding in the Sixth Kingdom had kept him from taking his own life. He had never once chosen to act in a manner befitting his race, never displayed the wisdom and courage to end the violence, to approach the humans and demonstrate that the dragons' ancestral home should be restored to them. _Lord of the Sky?_ he thought derisively. _I am Lord of Nothing._

This was why Virginia's accusations in his cave had so infuriated Daviander, because they were the truth. When she had asked rhetorically if the dragons long dead and departed would be proud that he was their sole representative in the Nine Kingdoms, if his mate and cubs would be proud of him, he had known in the depths of his soul that the answer was no. Wolf had somehow forgiven Virginia for whatever it was she had done—had it involved the Pied Piper, perhaps, and that accounted for their ambivalent emotions?—but his mate would never forgive him. He had failed them all. He had failed dismally, and only this one slender chance, this one desperate hope, remained to him before he gave up entirely. But even if he somehow succeeded, he could not earn a reward—not in Heaven, and not on Earth.

Oh, the part of him that still trusted Virginia knew she intended to keep her promise, and he was certain from her fortitude and determination that she would prevail in whatever she set her mind to. Yet he could not help but doubt. He knew from their melding of hearts and sharing of memories that King Wendell had pardoned all wolves in his kingdom thanks to the efforts of Wolf on his behalf. And that had given him hope, had compelled him to agree to wield his magic fire against the Ice Queen. But now, with the rationality of distance over time, he could see his hope as a deluded dream. True, wolves had been hated and feared for centuries in the Kingdoms, and to learn they had been pardoned, proclaimed as heroes, was a positive and gigantic stride toward acceptance and tolerance. If wolves could be lauded, why not dragons?

But on the other paw, for all of the prejudice and murderous fanaticism against wolves and half-wolves, they had one thing in their favor. Half-wolves always appeared human except for during the full moon, and while full wolves most often were found in their lupine forms, they too could transform into men and women. As such it would be easier in the long run for them to be accepted, when they resembled, at least superficially, the humans who hated them. It would be common ground, a starting point for understanding.

But dragons...dragons would always appear as beasts, firebreathing monsters, demonic spawn of Hell. Some could alter their shape by magic, but in the end they would always be dragons, and there could be no compromise, no middle ground. Dragons were what they were, and with no basis for comparison or empathy, humans would continue to foster hate and fear in their hearts. He knew it. The only thing that might make a difference was the silver lining...and that, he knew, was a monkey's paw if ever there was one. No hopes resided there.

Daviander sighed anew, his heart breaking. No astral glory; no pardon from the Kingdoms. And no fulfillment of love and happiness. Dragons did not mate for life, although most often did; if he could find another female, he could move on, he could love her and make her his new mate. But he _would_ not do such a thing. It would be a betrayal of himself, of his emotions, of his beloved Liraliss. But it also meant he would be forever alone...and seeing Virginia and Wolf together, in love, declaring their irrevocable bond, only made him pine for companionship all the more.

"O my Brethren..." His voice rumbled immensely from his cavernous chest as he lifted his head higher and arched his neck to turn his entire view into nothing but the panorama of the stars overhead. "Hear my plea, answer me, mine Ancestors. Have I chosen arightly? Be this my destiny? Have ye deigned, in your ultimate goodness, to forgive my sins and offer me a chance for redemption? Dost a reward still await me? What will be my fate?"

There was no reply, of course, although one star did twinkle brightly, and the streak of a shooting star crossed his vision. Could that be a sign of hope?

On into the night he sat...waiting...watching...wondering. He thought, and he fretted, and he berated himself, and he even shed tears for all he had lost. For what he hoped he might gain.

Had he chosen rightly? Had he?

Daviander did not sleep that night.

* * *

The next morning when he returned to the campsite, Virginia was concerned, asking where he had been all night and if something was troubling him. But Daviander shrugged her tender compassion aside, grunting only that he had needed to be alone for a while and she should not inquire further. She had sighed and turned away, looking as if a friend had deserted her, and in a flash of intuition he knew that was how it appeared to her. He felt distanced from her, but he was the one keeping the distance maintained now...for many reasons.

But although it pained his heart, the dragon could not admit to her his true feelings. If they were wrong, he would be humiliated and embarrassed, and if they were right, he would no longer be present to confront his fears, either due to death or banishment. In either case, there was nothing she could do, and with his current wariness toward her, he was not even certain he would wish her to act if she could.

Again the day passed uneventfully, a flight of boredom and emptiness across the treetops of the Red Riding Hood Forest. Apparently bothered by his reticence, Virginia began a game of riddles with Wolf, and in spite of himself Daviander listened in, amused and baffled in turn by the answers she gave and the questions she asked. This Tenth Kingdom of hers must be a very strange place. He should like to visit it some day, assuming he survived this quest. Assuming her world did not suffer from the same intolerance and fear as this one, which he rather doubted.

Wolf for his part was as inquisitive and curious as a child, perplexed and intrigued and amazed by Virginia's riddles. His own were fairly standard for the Kingdoms, although most revolved around shepherdesses, sheep, and the wildlife of the forests. Some were humorous, like the one about the porcupine, while others were incredibly intricate, like the one about the spiderweb. Finally, around mid-afternoon, Daviander was compelled to join in, and if Virginia had been stumped by some of the ancient riddles of the Kingdoms, she would be mystified by the riddles a dragon knew.

Pursing his lips thoughtfully, he decided to make his fourth riddle one he had learned from a knight just before devouring him. "Answer me this riddle, milady:

_Emotion-filled, emotion-scarred,_  
_By weapons wounded_—_yet words do wound it as well._  
_A castle it is_—_to some it standeth open;_  
_To others, its keep-gate is barred._  
_To some 'tis hoar-covered, sun-lit to others,_  
_Known for bursting and beating, swelling and sinking;_  
_A thinker, a sage, a wooer, a fetter,_  
_A vessel of life-essence from which thanes and churls eagerly sup._  
_In one's life-house it hideth,_  
_Yet 'tis easily found_  
_By the unerring warrior_  
_And his battle-seeking blade._  
_By what name be it yclept?" _

Virginia scrunched up her forehead in concentration. "A castle...open and closed, icy and warm, a vessel to drink from, hidden in a...life-house?" Her voice rose in incredulity. "Too many contradictions...I know I should recognize it, Daviander, but I don't. What is it?"

"Why, 'tis the heart, milady." He smirked knowingly as she groaned at her obtuseness.

Several riddles later she gave up in defeat, but Daviander only smiled, his heart considerably lightened by the pleasant pastime. With a trifle more hope and belief in his chest, he bore them onwards, over the high mountain range that separated the Second Kingdom from the Fourth, descending into the bowl of the valley where the Disenchanted Forest spread for a thousand miles to north and south. As they skimmed over the treetops, the setting sun to the west speared its bloody rays between the peaks of a mountain pass, igniting the leaves and sending flames rippling along every branch and limb. The light began to fade as they dropped lower still, and he cleared his throat diffidently. "Milady, we should consider descending for the night once more."

"Again?" Virginia moaned. "But we're so _close!"_

"Indeed...but we should ne'er approach Castle White by cover of darkness, despite the concealment it offereth. The Ice Queen's power is the cold, which canst not stand the light of day. 'Twould be meet to begin our assault on the morrow, an we wish to face the Witch of Winter when she remaineth at her weakest."

"Oh, all right," Virginia grumbled. "But where can we stay in the Disenchanted Forest that's safe..." She trailed off, scanning the canopy below them. Then she sat up straight and pointed. "There! The perfect place, Daviander!"

He turned to look. Rising from the treetops in the center of the forest, just barely visible between the intertwined branches, were the weathered stone battlements of a solitary tower, adorned with vines and creepers, its windows dark and empty as they gazed like sightless eyes toward the foaming banks of the Golden River. It was the Royal Hunting Lodge of the House of White.

Daviander growled softly under his breath. He had tacitly agreed when he joined Virginia's company that by working together to undo the Ice Queen's wicked enchantments they would be uniting dragons and Charmings, that the Fourth Kingdom and his people would no longer be enemies. But old habits died hard, and he had said nothing about frequenting the homes and private sanctuaries of the Whites. Many a dragon-hunt that had ended in the slaying of his brethren had originated at this very lodge.

But there was unlikely to be any other safe place within the dangerous forest, certainly not for a creature of his size. And it would only be for one night.

Nodding in acquiescence, not trusting himself to speak, the dragon swept down in a wide spiraling circle, passing around the clearing where the lodge lay several times until he achieved the angle of descent he wanted. As he passed through the canopy, he heard Wolf say behind him, "Are you sure this is all right, my gorgeous creampuff? I mean, I know we can't exactly ask Wendell's permission, but..."

"It's all right, Wolf," Virginia assured him. "Before we went back to New York the last time, Wendell told me I had the full run of all the royal estates and holdings. Remember, he even wanted us to honeymoon here when he was trying to coerce me into marrying you?" She giggled and tweaked his nose. "I even know where he keeps the spare key. And anyway, this is kind of an emergency."

Before Wolf could object further, if he intended to, Daviander brought them down at the end of the broad trail that led to the hunting lodge. Countless trees, as tall and straight as sentinels at watch, lined the roadway on either side, their leafy limbs forming a sheltering bower over the forest loam and casting all within an eerie gloom.

Ahead, the lodge itself rose dimly through the trunks and underbrush, a massive stone keep formed of blocks into a squarish profile, decorated with pillars and arches and festooned with centuries of intertwined ivy growth, but the details were lost in the obscuring shadows. A bare turret crowned its heights, and two wings extended off into the choking foliage and thickets. All in all it was very impressive and daunting, but here beneath the canopy, where the sun had essentially already set, it became only a looming silhouette that somehow unnerved the dragon.

"Well, there's definitely no way you'll fit inside," Virginia chuckled as she and Wolf dismounted, "so I think we'll go on in and have our dinner. Then we'll meet you on top of the roof so we can talk, all right?" She paused. "Because I don't ever want you to feel left out..."

For a moment the loneliness that had surged in his heart at her suggestion was driven back by her admission of guilt and offer of companionship. She was worried for him, she was trying to make amends for pushing him away! He smiled warmly. "That 'twould be...most welcome, milady. I await thine arrival." He undulated his neck down so he could bow his head before her in respect.

Satisfied, Virginia led Wolf past the hitching post and up the lodge steps to the pillared arch shading the porch. There she paused to search the ivy alongside the granite pilaster until she found some concealed niche and the key it held. Then she unlocked the red oak door and guided Wolf inside.

When the door had closed behind them, Daviander sighed and once more drifted into the trees to seek out a meal, knowing he was what he had always been, what he was destined to be. Alone.

By the time the sun had set completely, he had returned to the lodge to find fragrant cedar smoke billowing up from the silent structure's immense chimney. Approaching the lodge until he towered over it, Daviander discovered he had timed matters precisely, for at that moment the narrow door at the far corner of the roof creaked open, and Virginia and Wolf emerged. He was ravenously gnawing on a leg of mutton, while she was chewing more daintily on what smelled like a roast beef sandwich.

During his time in the forest, the dragon had been thinking constantly, turning over possibilities in his mind, and now he knew he must broach a subject Virginia had been avoiding for the last three days, a subject she had avoided, he was certain, out of fear of the unknown. Before she could begin talking about some useless inanity, he cleared his throat and rumbled, "I have been cogitating upon our quest, milady."

"Yes?" She paused with the sandwich halfway to her mouth, and even in the dark, at this distance, he could see the trepidation in her eyes.

Lowering his head until his chin almost rested upon the battlement, Daviander gazed at her knowingly. "Hast thou, or Wolf, e'en once considered what plan of attack ye shall utilize?"

"Of course we have!" Wolf burst out at once, defensively. But then he faltered and scratched nervously at his temple. "We haven't come up with anything good yet, but we sure were tryin'!" He said it as if it were something to be proud of.

Daviander frowned disapprovingly. "Come now, Lady Virginia. Surely thou canst not tell me that thou merely intendedst to march blithely into the throne room, confront the Ice Queen, and she wouldst willingly lay down her wand for thee?" He could not hide the scorn he felt, and had no desire to.

Stiffening in anger, Virginia snapped, "Of course not! Do you think I'm an idiot? That would never work...we just have to figure out what would." She shrugged helplessly and then looked away. "I hate to admit this, but I was kind of thinking we didn't need to plan much, that now that we had your magic, we could rely on you to do all the work."

The dragon growled audibly, allowing his fire to flicker and dance about his maw, filling the clearing with ruddy light and strange, ambiguous shadows that cavorted on the tree trunks. _Humans!_ They never prepared or thought ahead! It was a wonder that they ever rose to prominence and power in the Nine Kingdoms.

"I see...I am afraid I must be a bearer of ill tidings to thee, milady. My magic is powerful, no question of that. But I cannot fight a war for thee, nor can I win it alone. I am a match for the Ice Queen's sorcery, but I cannot o'ercome it unaided, only repel it and prevent its advance. Nor have I the magic to imprison or slay her. Whate'er her fate shalt be, it must needs be determined by thee, and by Wolf. Together are we all bound, and together must we cooperate."

Not missing the crestfallen and disappointed look on Virginia's face, Daviander modulated his voice to sound more forgiving and understanding, even though his fear and doubt had just heightened. The future of the Kingdoms, and of him and his race, all depended on this, and she had not the slightest idea how to marshal her forces for battle. But then how could she? She was no general, she did not have his knowledge of warfare.

"How didst thou intend to penetrate her defenses at Castle White?" he asked solicitously.

"Well, we'll use the Troll King's shoes, of course, to be invisible," she scoffed. "If she can't see us, she won't know we're there...I hope. Anyway," she rushed on, "once we're inside, the key is the wand. If we deprive her of her magic that lets her enchant people in ice, then she's helpless, isn't she? I mean, whatever other magic she has, it won't keep us from capturing or killing her...will it?" She sounded more as if she were trying to convince herself than him.

Slowly Daviander nodded. Her plan was rudimentary, and based on several huge assumptions that might not bear out in reality, but at least she was thinking now, or had been. "I cannot say, but thou art correct that her wand is the principle source of her power. Without it, thou mayest not defeat her, but thou shalt surely have an even chance of doing so, which far outweigheth the chance thou shalt possess an she retaineth it. But I must warn thee, do not depend on the magic shoes, for they shall surely fail thee at the most critical moment." He frowned thoughtfully, letting smoke curl up from his nostrils. "And how, prithee, didst thou hope to divest her of her wand?"

"That's where you come in," Wolf interjected. "We were kind of hoping that after we make a distraction of some sort, you could destroy her wand with your fire."

"Assuming it _canst_ be destroyed in that fashion," he remarked darkly. "Crude, but an effective plan. Still, I have a suggestion to make to improve thy plan."

"And that would be...?" Virginia prompted.

"I shall provide the distraction, while thy mate and thee shall do the honor of confiscating the wand and eliminating the Ice Queen herself, in whatever manner presenteth itself."

Both of them blinked, and then Wolf bared his fangs and turned away, beginning to pace the rooftop. "And why would that be a good idea, exactly?"

Daviander exhaled slowly, controlling his temper. The half-wolf clearly did not know tactics either, being a pack animal he most likely was aware of only such scenarios as divide-and-conquer, surround-and-assault, drive-and-lure, and so forth. But dragons fought in battalions and legions as regimented and directed as any human army. He knew what he was proposing, both its liabilities and its advantages. "Because, my wolven friend, the Ice Queen shall be expecting the primary thrust to come from me. She shall consider me to be the greatest, nay, the only true threat. She shall ne'er suspect ye of doing the deed. Ye shall take her by surprise, and thus by the avenue of her hesitation and indecision strike the killing blow." He nodded emphatically.

Wolf had stopped pacing and was eyeing him with profound respect, but also uncertainty. "It could work. It could work at that. But, my fiery friend, you are forgetting one thing: how do we get you into the castle? It is far larger than Rapunzel's palace, but..." He growled in frustration.

The dragon paused. He had not thought of that. Setting his chin fully on the battlement and ignoring the ominous crack and loosening of stone that it began, he half-closed his eyes. "Tell me of the castle, my memory remaineth flawed. Describe it in every detail."

They did so, working together to dispense their knowledge. It wasn't much. Virginia had little notion of how castles operated, and had only been exposed to the palace's underbelly—its cellars, dungeon, armory, and wardrooms—as well as fleeting glimpses of the throne room and the banquet hall. She also knew many details of the ballroom...but none of this offered anything of use to a dragon. Wolf had never visited Castle White prior to coming there with Virginia and her father, due to his long years in the wilderness and in prison, and he too had not seen everything, but he had more in the way of useful information. Including one key piece that made the plan fall together in a perfect mosaic.

By the time they were finished, the midnight blue sky and its stars formed an infinite dome above them, and they were all in the deepest of shadows, for it was the time of the new moon, when the mistress of the tides and of the wolven Change absented herself from the Kingdoms. But Daviander's night vision was acute, and he could still see the faces of his companions gazing up in hope and desperation. And by the time they had finished, he also knew what they had to do.

"'Twill be difficult," he mused at last, "and the plan must needs be adaptable to e'erchanging circumstances. But I believe an thou, milady, art prepared to use thy magic, and an we follow the simple procedure I have just devised, we may reave away the Ice Queen's life most assuredly."

"Really?" Virginia eyed him dubiously, but he could tell she was pinning all her hopes on him. It made him feel at once worthwhile and insecure. This was his chance, would he fail once again? "So what is this master plan of yours?"

Daviander glanced from her to Wolf, breathing shallowly so that his fire rose only about his muzzle, once more casting light about the mysterious clearing and its only landmark, the crumbling hunting lodge. If he had any hope of redemption, any hope of receiving a reward of any kind on earth or in heaven, any hope of acceptance and love and friendship, any hope of escaping his past and building a bright future for his race and for the Kingdoms, then it all depended on this one plan.

He looked up once more to the stars of his ancestors for guidance, for assurance, for simple strength. Then he leaned down to Wolf and Virginia and told them what it was.

* * *

(A/N: One quick FYI. The riddle Daviander tells Virginia is one I had to write myself for a college class on medieval and Renaissance times. It was a lot of fun reading and trying to guess them [though I failed at most] as well as the ones my classmates wrote, and writing mine was fun too, though in retrospect it's a bit obvious. R/R!)


	20. Nineteen: Castle Assault

**Nineteen**: Castle Assault

Judging by the immense height of the vaulted ceiling and the meticulously carved pillars and statuary lining the walls, the den of the Royal Hunting Lodge would have been more appropriate if used as a baronial hall for elegant banquets of fifteen courses or more, with hours and hours of drinking, toasting, feasting, laughing, singing, and dancing. And judging by the colossal size of the fireplace and its hearth, which could have held the Three Bears and five wild boars on its spits, such mammoth dinners had likely been held here in days of yore.

But nothing was roasting over the fire this evening, although the cheery, crackling flames did blaze brightly between the massive andirons, giving off wafting smoke of fragrant pine, cedar, and hickory. And while the room was empty of guests and courtiers, hunters and trappers, and the maple table extending down its length lay bare, a celebration of a different sort had just taken place on the hearthstone.

Sighing contentedly, Virginia lay intertwined in the arms of Wolf, wrapped up in the thick fur of a bearskin rug as she inhaled the heady fragrances and gazed up at the room around her. The walls and ceiling were built of heavy granite, the blocks smooth and snugly fitted, in much better repair than the facade of the hunting lodge, with ponderous beams, studs, and joists of teak and ebony lending further support.

Rich tapestries of the finest weavings and cloths draped the chamber, glowing with dyes that had not lost their vividness over the centuries. She had studied them earlier, seeing the generations of Charmings and Whites setting off on grand hunts and returning laden with the animals and beasts they had slain, all depicted in stylized embroideries that put her in mind of the Unicorn Tapestries, which she'd seen at The Cloisters as a child.

Mythical creatures filled the images as well: fairies flitting about the forest, frozen on exquisite wings captured in breathtaking detail; griffins rampant and unicorns rearing in majesty; and dragons wheeling against azure skies. In one particular sequence of scenes, a dragon was stabbed through the heart by a knight's gleaming sword, then borne toward what looked like Castle White, carried by thousands of men with lashed saplings.

Virginia tried to banish those images from her mind, but she could not. Nor could she deny that she was irrevocably bound to those atrocities by her own bloodline. This was her heritage, those historical figures in the tapestries were her ancestors, she was a Charming and a White herself. The deaths of all dragons committed by her house were her legacy, her responsibility, her burden. And here of all places she could not forget it.

Everywhere she looked lay a reminder—here a carving of the seal of the House of White, there an interwoven C and W embossed in gold, and there above the fireplace the biggest symbol of all, the escutcheon bearing the royal coat-of-arms: two male lions sparring on hind legs on the dexter, and a flourishing apple tree on the sinister, with a crown and ribbons overlapping the middle. The hunting lodge reeked of history and duty, courage and valor, bravery and challenge—but also guilt and ruin, cruelty and pain, hate and intolerance. It was a good thing Daviander could not fit inside after all, so he did not have to see what lay within...although he surely knew it was there.

Snuggling into Wolf's chest, she turned her gaze away, into the depths of the flames where the heat grew so intense white turned to translucent, as if she could ignite and consume her emotions—her regret, her worries, her confusion, her empathy. So much was riding on her success, so much had been placed on her shoulders, and still she did not know if she had done enough. And the journey back to the Fourth Kingdom had swirled with these emotions, most of them centered around Daviander. What an enigma he was...just when she thought she had him figured out he went off on a tangent, did something unpredictable that made him impossible to comprehend.

At first she had been angry at him, and Wolf, for concealing the truth about the silver lining, but at the campfire that first night Wolf had explained to her in more detail how the magic worked, and why it had been so necessary to keep her untainted and innocent of the truth, and how he had known all along she would not make the wrong choice. After all, she had resisted the lure of the Golden River Gold Fish, and while the shoes had tempted her and enthralled her will, that had been more about insecurity and shyness than greed, and in any case she had proven on this quest that the shoes had no more power over her.

Once Wolf had explained it all, she had been touched anew by his faith in her and relented. But this had not been the end of the problems with Daviander, for not only did she never tell the dragon she understood his choices and motivations, she had also inadvertently driven Daviander away.

Clutching the bearskin closer, like a security blanket, Virginia closed her eyes and tried to forget those mournful blue eyes, gazing at her with such sorrow, loneliness, and disappointment. She had tried not to do it, she had sworn she wouldn't, but she had been uncertain how to draw him into conversation, and her talks with Wolf had been incredibly important. The first had not really solved anything, but it had established groundwork, allowed her to see how truly important it was to Wolf that he build her a home here in the Kingdoms.

Ever since they'd returned to New York she had known this day would come, that she could not keep Wolf trapped in her world forever. It had preyed on her mind, haunted her with its certainty. It was not that she longed to remain in New York, it no longer seemed to be her home anymore; her time away from it, and the changes inside her heart, had added a luster of new magic when she and Wolf came back through the mirror, but the true magic lay here in the Nine Kingdoms, where her heart belonged.

But still, the comforts of familiarity and her own hesitancy about leaping into the unknown had held her back. Yet in the end she knew she would agree. Her father lived here, her cousin and stepbrother Wendell ruled here, this was her native soil. And Wolf, she wanted him to be happy. He belonged here too. She could not blame him for insisting on this new home so he could keep watch over her always, for overreacting to the Faye Wray impersonation the ogre had forced on her.

And his distress and fear had also stemmed from the way she had treated him in the fox burrow, first berating him for trying to protect her, then admitting she had slipped and shown attraction to another man. That was why their second conversation had been even more crucial. She'd had to reassure him again, to show him she was loyal. Not because he still doubted her fidelity, he had insisted he forgave her for having other lovers before him. No, it was because it was the right thing to do.

After being cold for so long, she was compelled to drown Wolf in the warmth of her heart. And by reaffirming their vows, she had stressed how she no longer feared marriage, that she would not back out of it at the last minute. For the first time she believed it, she believed in it. She'd realized, as she knelt beside the fire their second night, that she had avoided marriage like the plague, not just because of her fear of abandonment, but because she truly didn't understand what it meant.

Her mother had left Tony; her grandmother's marriage had ended in divorce. What did she know about happiness or true love? But now she could feel it, she knew what two hearts joined in complete devotion felt like, and she wanted it, she wanted it so much it hurt. She wanted recognition of it, and she wanted Wolf to never doubt her again.

Smiling with tears in her eyes, Virginia stroked his forehead bathed in the firelight, brushed back his hair, then caressed his stubbled cheek as she kissed his brow. He stirred in his sleep, let out a little whine, and then rolled over, scratching his temple. She had to laugh softly. She loved him so much...if only she had never hurt him! But that was her track record, she hurt everybody—her father, her grandmother, and now Daviander. She hadn't meant to shove him away, and as soon as she realized it was happening, she tried to make amends.

She didn't know if she was succeeding. He softened to her, he treated her with dignity and respect, and yet there was a doubt in his eyes, a lack of trust, that crushed her. Bringing him here to this place had not helped, it had only reminded both of them of their families' dark pasts. She had sworn to erase the past, to reaffirm friendship between human and dragon and end the fear and hate toward dragons in the Kingdoms, but how could she do that when she couldn't even manage to treat him with respect herself? She couldn't shut him out, not any more. She worried for him, for his long silences and gloomy spirits, but she had only herself to blame.

What made it worse, of course, was that he had been the recipient of her wish on the silver lining. She had known how badly they needed good fortune in the confrontation ahead, but even after all she had seen in the Kingdoms, she could not bring herself to believe a simple magic wish could alter the course of the future and save the day. At the moment of her touch to the cool, tingling metal of the sky, Virginia had wanted only to be selfless—not because she thought that would win her points with destiny, although it probably did, but because she longed for Daviander to be happy.

That was what she had wished. She hoped in her heart that he would be...and that, since he must live on, and be free of persecution, and be rewarded in order for that to occur, which in turn would not happen unless the Ice Queen were defeated, then their quest could be blessed indirectly. But even if that were not so, still...she had known what she had to do. And yet now she found herself hurting the one she had tried to help, the one who had already been wounded so severely by life. It made her want to howl in agony.

At least she still had Wolf, though. At least she had him. Assuming, of course, they all survived the next day. With or without the silver lining, a battle fraught with enchantment and evil lay ahead, and any of them could lose their lives in the waging of it. Particularly with the plan Daviander had concocted. In theory it would work, but of course it had not been tested and there was no way to do so.

They would have only one shot at this, and Murphy's Law was sure to strike, since there had never been a plan more complicated than crossing the road that had not gone wrong in some way since time began. She could only hope that Daviander's incredible intellect and knowledge would not steer them wrong, and that whatever alterations would have to be made on the spur of the moment would not cost them dearly. The next day was the crux.

Virginia sighed and threw herself sideways on the rug. Lying here constantly running through the same thoughts in her mind would not help, however. In fact it made it worse, since it deprived her of the sleep she needed. She had to calm down, to relax, to let what come, what may. Such a fatalistic attitude wasn't like her, but she knew she'd had to do a lot of out-of-character things since coming to the Kingdoms. And considering the perils with which the battle would be rife, she'd probably have to do even more.

She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, stroking her belly to soothe herself, letting all her limbs relax. To her surprise it worked, and in minutes she was fast asleep, and dreaming.

She found herself in the hallway outside Wendell's throne room, walking in slow, echoing strides down the marble flooring. Wolf was with her, his expression tense and nervous, and his palm as he clasped hers was sweaty. Her own was no better. On her feet were the magic shoes, and somehow she knew they were invisible even though she could see herself.

The towering panels of gold creaked open ponderously, letting the light of day spill in from the throne room, and then they were passing inside. At first Virginia thought the room was empty, but then she noticed the blocks of ice, encasing the frozen, terrified forms of those who had been enchanted—Wendell, her father, Lord Rupert, and many more, positioned about the floor like chess pieces in some colossal game of fate, surrounded by swirling mists. And then the Ice Queen appeared on the dais, the hand that moved the pieces, and she laughed mockingly. The doors slammed shut, and suddenly Red Riding Hood was beside her, laughing as well as she wrenched Virginia's arm in her socket and dragged her to the throne. "Hah! Here they are, Your Majesty, just as I warned you, they have come to destroy you! Is that not the most pathetic thing you have ever heard?"

Virginia stared at the queen in horror, stunned by her betrayal even in the foggy daze of her dream-state. But before she could do anything, the Ice Queen was nodding, lips pursed in sly amusement. "Indeed it is...I expected better of you, Lady Virginia. You and your Wolf did not arrive boldly and mightily to crush me, but slipped in like common sneak thieves. You are barely worth the time to dispense with you. Not a heroine at all."

She lifted a bone-white palm and puffed gently on it, her breath somehow becoming an icy winter gale that washed over Virginia and Wolf. She held up her hands futilely to fend off the buffeting wind. There came a burst of scattered golden lights, and then the shield of their invisibility vanished. "But still, it will be most entertaining watching you meet your end." Slowly she lifted her wand to point it at Virginia.

"No!" Wolf howled. He launched himself forward before Virginia could stop him. He was nearly up the steps when the Ice Queen brandished a long, cruel knife and brought it down with crushing force. Wolf gasped, gurgling, as blood spewed out of his mouth, and then he fell backwards down the steps, the knife plunged to the hilt in his chest. He fell at Virginia's feet, and through the Ice Queen's malicious laughter she could somehow hear his whining whimpers of pain, the sharp high whistling of his breath. And then his green eyes flashed golden once and went dark.

Something in Virginia's soul went dark with them, her heart pounding with an impossible pain and despair, and she turned on the Witch of Winter in rage. Screaming incoherently, she finally managed to cry out Daviander's name. Then somehow he was there, hovering in the throne room, all glory and grandeur, majesty and splendor, wings flapping as he inhaled to blast the figure in white with his scalding fire. But the Ice Queen only yawned and waved her wand, which glowed an unearthly blue.

The dragon had time only for one startled and horrified look before he suddenly stiffened, literally—his body turning a frosted crystal as it congealed into ice. The mammoth ice statue hovered in midair for a few seconds, then plummeted to the floor where it shattered into hundreds of unrecognizable fragments. Virginia gasped, stumbling back as tears began to flow down her cheeks. No, he could not be dead...they could not both be dead...

"Now, Virginia..." the Ice Queen's voice hissed. "You are the only one left. You are all alone. All alone, as you have always known you will be. Alone. Alone. Nothing and no one can save you. I triumph, and you are a failure."

Red Riding Hood had a vise-grip on her arms, preventing her escape, as Mistress Death came for her inexorably. Closer, closer she drew, and Virginia was powerless to resist, all her will and strength fled, her heart torn to pieces by what she had lost forever. She was a fool for ever thinking they could win. Closer, closer the Ice Queen drew, and as the wand began to spray its icy spell, she could already feel her heart stopping, her eyes going dark...dark...

Shrieking, Virginia wrenched herself upright, struggling with the bearskin rug. Her throat constricted with her heaving breaths, but she somehow managed to scream. She was still screaming when Wolf was beside her, wrapping her in his arms, holding her close, shushing her. When she realized who he was, where they were, and that he wasn't dead, she collapsed sobbing against his shoulder.

For a long time she stayed there, crying out all her horror and agony and despair. When she finally had no more tears left to shed, she still stayed with her face buried in his shoulder. Gradually she felt his hand cupping the back of her head, stroking it. "Oh, Virginia...sweetheart...what was it? Tell me about it, please..."

"No...no," she croaked. He couldn't know, and she couldn't bring herself to say it. "It was just a dream, a nightmare."

Wolf slowly sat back and lifted her chin to look into her eyes. "Lambchop, here in the Kingdoms there's no such thing as just a nightmare. They all mean something, they are all important."

"It doesn't matter," she snapped, resentment flaring in her voice. She couldn't accept what he was saying, she wouldn't. Because that would mean there might be truth in what she'd dreamt, and that could never be. _It could not._ "It'll never happen, I won't let it, so you can set your mind at ease."

He tried to comfort her, to wipe away her tears, even as he shook his head sadly and regretfully. But before he could try and convince her again of something she would never believe, she pulled away from him and leaped to her feet, disentangling herself from the rug and running out of the den.

Virginia heard him call after her, heard the aching distress in his voice, but she steeled herself to ignore it as she ran down the carpeted entry hall to the front door. Jerking it open, she ran out onto the porch, her eyes darting madly about the clearing, looking for, seeking, longing for, hoping for...yes!

There he was, lying curled in a gentle loop just under the edge of the trees, his ebony form blending so well with the shadows that she could not have seen him at all if not for the faint sooty glow and puffs of smoke rising from his nostrils. He was asleep, snoring peacefully but gratingly; apparently her screams had been muffled by the stonework. But he was there, he was alive. He was all right.

As she stood there shuddering on the doorstep, shivering more from the certainty and inevitability of the dream than from the cold night air that made her breath fog before her face, she heard a quiet step and then Wolf came up behind her. She knew it was him since they were alone, but she would have known it was him no matter what, she knew his gait, the way he moved. "Virginia...I'm sorry. I won't ask you again, you don't have to tell if you don't want to. I just thought...it might do you some good to talk about it..."

She turned back and looked at him. He was shifting from one foot to the other like a schoolboy in the principal's office, but the look on his face was the same as in her chamber at the palace after she awoke from her two-day sleep, so visibly concerned and longing to make her happy, to wipe all the terrible memories from her mind. It made her eyes tear up again. How could she lose him? What if she did? What if it wasn't just a dream, but a premonition? Or one of many possible outcomes?

"Wolf...just...just hold me." She stepped into his embrace and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

For a long time they just stood there on the stoop, embracing and rocking back and forth as the stars shone above and the sounds of crickets and the occasional owl floated eerily to them through the cold air. Then Wolf turned and began to gently guide her toward the door. "Come on, my poor little sausage...come back inside and try and get some more sleep. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

Oh, if only he knew.

* * *

The next morning, Virginia was certain she would be muzzy-headed and groaning, hard to awaken and prone to falling asleep once more, and certainly in no condition to continue the journey, but to her surprise she had slept long and dreamlessly in Wolf's arms after returning inside the hunting lodge, and so she awoke refreshed and invigorated. Her dream still haunted her, of course, as did all of the doubts and fears, worries and guilt that had kept her awake before it.

But all of that had to be laid aside. Whatever would or wouldn't happen, she still had to go through with this. No amount of dithering or delaying would do anything but prolong the inevitable and make it more likely they would fail or come too late. She had to be brave. She had to be.

No more words were exchanged about the dream, so Daviander learned nothing of it, which was how Virginia wanted it. Instead they ate a quick breakfast, doused the fireplace, made sure all the provisions in the lodge were in order, and then locked the door again. After she had returned the key to its hiding place, she let Wolf help her up on the dragon's back, and when they were situated they once more took off for the east. One final time she glanced back as the morning sun shone across the expanse of the forest, highlighting the hunting lodge's tower. Then, with mixed feelings, she looked stoically ahead.

By midday they had traversed the rest of the Disenchanted Forest and flown across the Fourth Kingdom until they were no more than five miles from Whitehorn, the capital city. At this point Daviander took them down for the last time, letting them disembark in a cornfield. "This is where we must part ways for the nonce, milady. I shall fly on to Castle White, per our agreement, whilst thou and Wolf continue on afoot in whatever manner seemeth quickest. No one shall see me until the moment is aright, when thou givest the signal." He paused, about to say something more, but then seemed to think better of it, only smiling encouragingly. "We shall meet anon, Lady Virginia. And thou shalt have no need to fear...we shall prevail."

With that confident pronouncement Virginia sorely needed but was afraid to believe, Daviander took off, wings stirring up a stiff wind that set the cornstalks to rustling and swaying. Higher and higher he soared, the light shining around him in a halo...and then he began to shimmer, to ripple, to grow indistinct. Virginia narrowed her eyes, trying to keep him in her sight, but it was useless. In moments he had faded from view.

She didn't know if he had turned invisible or changed colors to match the sky, but in either case, she could not penetrate his magic, and neither would any denizen of Whitehorn or any of the Ice Queen's spies and ice demons. Whether the witch herself would be immune was an unknown variable that deeply disturbed Virginia. She'd always hated algebra.

Together the two of them followed the broad road leading to the capital, walking as quickly as they could without tiring Virginia out, until after half an hour of traveling they reached a hill where they could view the city below, with its whitewashed walls, cobblestoned thoroughfares, and countless houses, inns, stores, and barn-like warehouses.

At this point a fortuitous encounter with a peddler's wagon gave them a ride the rest of the way to Whitehorn, allowing Virginia to rest her aching feet. The peddler was garrulous, as well as a little too jolly for her taste—she suspected he'd been drinking—but was content to carry the brunt of the conversation himself with only a few obscure answers about their background and reason for traveling to satisfy him. Fifteen minutes later the old man dropped them off in the center of town and went off to find an alehouse, leaving them alone.

Wendell's capital was the largest city in the Kingdoms, and the early afternoon streets were extremely crowded and noisy, so it was unlikely that anyone would notice them if they simply walked to the Royal Estate, but Wolf was taking no chances. At his insistence, Virginia remained hidden in a narrow alleyway that smelled none too clean while he made his way into the sprawling marketplace to find transportation and information.

The entire duration of his absence could not have been more than half an hour, but every minute of it she paced about anxiously, trying not to imagine what sorts of nasty things could happen to him if anyone recognized him as a hero of the Kingdoms and word got back to the Ice Queen.

Just as Virginia was about to break her word and go looking for him, Wolf returned. "I found it!" he exclaimed smugly. "The perfect way to get out of town and to the estate unseen. But we have to hurry, or we'll miss our chance."

As he led the way back into the marketplace, Virginia grabbed his coatsleeve. "Wolf, were you seen? Did anyone you talked to know who you were?"

He shook his head, grinning. "First time I've ever been grateful for that old adage that 'all wolves look alike'! Thanks to that anonymity, no one gave me a second glance. A few pointed but casual questions and I got all the gossips talking. Seems no one here knows about the Ice Queen or what she's done, the witch isn't taking any chances of a warning getting out to the other Kingdoms until no one can stop her.

"But the people are a little suspicious, because there haven't been any personal appearances by Wendell in the last two weeks, just messages and proclamations. And he's received visits from all the other rulers, but none of them ever left. Some people think they just went home a different way, while others think some important council is being held in secret. None of them know the truth." Wolf sighed in regret and pity.

Before she could ask any more questions, Wolf led her through the crowds and down another alley to a sturdy, well-constructed building built out of brick that a swinging sign proclaimed to be the Lion Inn. In the yard were a series of wagons and carts, hitched and ready to leave. Gesturing to the nearest, he hurried to the back and threw aside a tarp to reveal a collection of foodstuffs: loaves of bread, barrels of water, bushels of fresh vegetables, slabs of cured meat, bags of flour and malt and sugar. "In here, Virginia! These are supplies for the castle, this wagon'll take us right where we want to go!"

With Wolf's help she clambered in the wagonbed, then joined him in throwing the tarp back into place to conceal them. It was just in time, as Virginia heard the back door of the inn open and the sound of raucous voices, laughter, and heavy bootsteps on the cobblestones. She held her breath, listening as a man with a loud, crude voice came to the front of the wagon and climbed up on the seat. There came the sound of coins changing hands, someone pounding someone on the back, and then the lash of a whip. Horses nickered, the wagon jolted backwards, and then began to creak out of the innyard.

Glancing over worriedly at Wolf, she saw he had lifted the tarp just enough to make a slit of light above the lip of the wagonbed so he could peer outside. Following his lead, she settled in to watch and wait, hoping they would remain undetected. All they needed now was to have a resentful teamster report them as stowaways, thieves, or spies.

The next half hour was the most agonizing and suspenseful half hour Virginia had so far experienced. Through the gap in the tarp she could see the people of Whitehorn thronging and mobbing the streets, bakers and wine merchants, knights and priests, lords and ladies, seamstresses and tailors, farmers come to town and silversmiths displaying their wares. Soldiers and royal guards patrolled the streets as well, and she tensed whenever a garrison walked by, afraid that a random inspection would give them away, and there was no telling whether any of them served the Ice Queen. Anyone, she knew, could be an enemy now.

Just when she was keyed up to a fever pitch, the wagon reached the northern gates of the city and passed out unmolested onto the white-graveled road that led to Castle White. She heaved a sigh of relief and focused her gaze on what lay ahead. At the bottom of the hill, just visible through the trees, were the gardens, hedges, and fountains of the Royal Estate, and beyond it, looming into the afternoon sky of peaceful blue, was Wendell's castle.

She abruptly felt a strange sense of deja vu. Once before she had ridden in the back of a wagon with her father, a prisoner of the Huntsman and the Trolls. Once before she, Tony, and Wolf had seen a similar view of the castle from the edge of the woodlands surrounding the ornate fairy tale structure on the day before the coronation ball. It was almost as if history were repeating itself, giving them another chance at a flawless assault on the fortress. At least this time, she reflected, they wouldn't have to swim through a murky moat, nearly drown in an underwater passage, avoid a sewage-churning cistern, and deal with a smug riddling frog.

The wagon descended the hillside smoothly and unhurriedly, passing through the forest and manicured lawns until Virginia felt like yelling at the driver to move it along, but the journey proceeded steadily, and she knew all too soon they would be arriving. She reached out and took Wolf's free hand, squeezing it for reassurance, and he glanced at her, smiling tightly. Once more she prayed that her dream would not come true, that somehow they would defy the odds against them and succeed.

A contingent of sentries at the gates of the palace stopped the cart to ascertain the driver's identity and his reason for seeking admittance to the grounds, and Virginia again held her breath. What if this wagon wasn't legitimate, denying them entry, or the soldiers needed to search it to make sure it didn't hold anything that wasn't supposed to be there? They had the shoes, of course, and could don them if it became urgent, but they had been saving the magic for the last minute to conserve it...

Luckily the guards found nothing amiss with the driver's permit, and none of them even twitched the tarp aside, only unlocking the vast iron gates and waving them on through. But the sound of the gates locking behind them was rather disconcerting. There was no turning back now.

On down the entry road they creaked, jostled from side to side by the horses' uneven gait as they circled the central fountain. The shadow cast by the castle fell over the wagon almost at once, irregular and bizarre, and as she raised her eyes from it to the silhouette that created it, she found she had never really studied the palace before. It was a strange mixture of styles, Gothic and Victorian and others she couldn't recognize, with hundreds of towers and spires and crenellations, as if the original builder had not known when to stop adding to it, intent on making the most complicated castle ever built. It was like a fantasy version of the Winchester Mansion. You could get lost in it.

As the wagon passed the last standard with its flapping banners and pennants and turned into the driveway extending along the foundation of the palace, Virginia knew they could not stay inside it much longer. Soon the driver would stop, and if they were still in his vehicle he would discover them. She hissed softly to Wolf to get his attention, then moved to the rear of the wagon. Pushing the tarp aside, the two of them leaped down to the ground, landing unharmed since they had not been moving very fast. The driver did not hear them and continued on.

Pulling the magic shoes out of the rucksack for the last time, Virginia put them on and took Wolf's hand. As soon as they had been swept up in the whirling lights and disappeared, she squeezed his hand and led the way across the driveway toward the arched entrance of the castle. But before they could reach it, she noticed two carriages pulled close beside the steps and slowed, suddenly wary. One of them was pale blue, in the shape of a pumpkin with curlicued vines for wheels. The other was a brilliant shade of red.

A terrible suspicion filled her at who they might belong to—and they were confirmed as she and Wolf reached the steps. Standing beside one of the stone urns at the base of the banister was an ancient but beautiful woman in a blue dress whom she recognized from the brief glimpse Virginia had received of her at the coronation—Cinderella. And beside her, intent and with an air of supreme authority about her, was noneother than Red Riding Hood III.

Back in the ominous shade of the deadly, intertwined brambles of the Sixth Kingdom, before the breaking of the spell, when she and Wolf and Colin had decided to press on to the castle instead of backtracking to recapture Carmine, Virginia had argued that if destiny foretold they and the queen were to share a common fate, their paths would cross again. But, despite her longing to break through Riding Hood's heart, she had secretly hoped she would never see the woman again.

And yet here she was, looking as arrogant, imperious, and selfish as ever, as if nothing at all had changed. Worse, she now stood between them and their goal...and in Virginia's mind burned and seethed the terrifying image of Carmine betraying them to the Ice Queen, as she had in the dream. What were they to do now?

There was no time to do anything, for as she and Wolf silently approached the two women, they were already speaking in hushed, fervent tones. Cinderella spoke first. "What are you doing here, Carmine? I was invited by Wendell to help him plan a ball and choose a wife."

Red Riding Hood sniffed and looked down her nose at the other queen. "I could ask you the same question. Why are _you_ here, when Wendell invited me to capture and prosecute those traitorous wolves after he rescinded his pardon?"

Cinderella frowned and glared at her. "Still going on about wolves, are you, Red? How terribly antiquated of you!" But then her brow furrowed in puzzlement. "Something isn't right, however. It seems a strange coincidence we should both be invited here, for such disparate purposes, through unexpected missives, at the exact same time."

The queen of the Second Kingdom gave her a long look of exaggerated sarcasm. "Oh, really? How astute of you to notice! Apparently age has not dulled your wits after all..."

Before Cinderella could retort an angry reply, Carmine held up a hand for silence. And then, suddenly, all the arrogance and blatant haughtiness evaporated, and the auburn-haired ruler reached out to grasp Cinderella's wrist tightly. Her azure eyes held a determination, a sense of just cause, of destiny. "Listen to me, listen to me now. You are absolutely correct. Something _is_ wrong here, and I know exactly what it is." She paused. "Those letters were not sent by Wendell. They were sent by the Ice Queen."

"What?"

Carmine hushed her. "I know it will be difficult to believe, I was skeptical myself at first, but I have it on good authority—that of the Lady Virginia."

"The Lady Virginia?" Cinderella blinked, surprise and respect mingling on her cosmetically enhanced features. "What has she to do with this? I was under the impression she had returned to her Tenth Kingdom."

Then, as Virginia eavesdropped in shock and amazement, Red Riding Hood proceeded to explain the entire tale as far as she knew it, of how the heroine and her mate Wolf had gone on a quest to the Sixth Kingdom to locate a dragon whose magic fire could defeat the Witch of Winter after her spells had ensorcelled Wendell and his court. She held nothing back, was completely truthful, and admitted her own part in the matter. But then she added that she had seen the error of her ways, and was now a firm ally in this endeavor, that she intended to do all in her power to redeem herself and save the Kingdoms.

"So you see," she concluded, "there is a chance for us. Because I am privy to the plot, I was not fooled as all of the others were. And while both of us may have walked into the Ice Queen's clutches, I did so willingly, deceptively, so as to gain access to the throne room and an opportunity to wreak vengeance upon the witch." An unholy light burned in her eyes, a fire of martyrdom, and Virginia started as she realized Carmine meant every word she said. Wolf's invisible hand clutched hers in a crushing grip, and she knew he too was just as stunned and disbelieving.

"Now." Red Riding Hood was calm once more, collected and unflinching. "I know you and I have not seen eye to eye on many occasions, Cindy. But this once you must trust me. You must believe that rescue is at hand, that Wolf and Virginia are even now on their way. And you must follow my lead when we confront the enchantress."

Cinderella's eyes were troubled. "I knew something was wrong," she murmured, almost to herself. "I just knew it. I felt it. That was why I came, to help Wendell if he was in trouble. But this..." She fell silent for long moments, while Virginia watched unobserved, feeling almost like an intruder. Then she looked up and met Carmine's eyes with the same iron will. "It is worse than I expected, but that will not deter me. Lead the way, Red."

Silently Virginia exulted inside as she watched the two queens turn and ascend the steps of the castle. They had another ally in their camp...two, in fact. Her mind was a whirl of doubt and uncertainty, a flood of images past and present, of Carmine's hatred and contempt and stubbornness intermixed with her repentance, her acknowledgment of wrongdoing, her oath to stand against evil. She was torn between her dream-image of Carmine and the reality before her.

But all she could conclude was that, somehow, what she and Wolf and Colin had each done had somehow made a mark on Red. The queen had changed, enough to make a difference. Here was a shifting of the balance, a tipping of the scales back in their direction. With Red on their side, the dynamics of the plan had changed drastically, and all might not be in vain.

Even as her thoughts careened about wildly, Virginia was following the queens with Wolf at her side. Together the four, two visible and two invisible, two approaching boldly and two enveloped in concealing magic, climbed the five steps and passed through the immense doors of Wendell's castle. Inside, Cinderella and Carmine trod the marble floor with stately steps and slow, the monarch of the First Kingdom catching up the hem of her blue gown with one hand, while Red Riding Hood kept her scarlet-gloved hands empty and free at her sides—perhaps to be ready to take some defensive action? Virginia wondered, incongruously, if Carmine had brought a weapon with her.

With agonizing slowness they walked, the guards that lined the corridors frozen at attention on either side, neither moving to bar their path nor challenging them vocally—directed not to, most certainly, by the Ice Queen, as there was an unnaturalness to their posture that denoted fear. Despite the power of the shoes, Virginia still trembled each time a sentinel turned their way, frightened by all the eyes that seemed to be upon her. On and on they continued, until it seemed as if the hallway were endless.

Finally the golden doors of the throne room appeared, and Virginia tensed once again. Her dream hit her with full force now, and although Carmine and Cinderella were there to even the odds, still she could not shake the sense of foreboding, of a dark omen, of death and worse. She flexed her hand instinctively, digging her nails into Wolf's palm, and he hissed softly through his teeth. For a moment Cinderella paused, looking back in curiosity, but of course she saw nothing. The party moved on, treading the red carpet, and Virginia's heart pounded in her throat.

Yet again she felt as if eyes were watching her, only now they seemed to come from all around her—here from a gargoyle, there from a marble bust, and there from an innocuous mirror. She longed to run, to scream, anything to break the unbearable silence.

But then the doors of the throne room softly opened, and she and Wolf had to hurry to catch up before they were shut outside.

Just as in the dream, the chamber seemed empty. Just as in the dream, a pervading mist crawled and crept at knee height and below, churning and twirling sluggishly. Just as in the dream, she saw the frozen blocks of ice scattered all around the room, sealing away royalty and dignitaries in unusual positions...agonized, fearful, uncomfortable contortions.

But unlike in the dream, the crystalline prisons rose from fields of ice and snow that had spread to cover the entire floor. In fact the very walls of the throne room dripped with icicles and yielded icy shelves and boulders at every turn. It was as if the room had been transformed into an ice cave.

Here and there she recognized something familiar—a chair back, a chandelier, the corner of a painting—emerging out of the ice as it grew to swallow all. Every inch of the winter landscape glowed and shimmered in the sunlight pouring through the windows, lending an even more surreal quality to the scene. And it was cold, so bitterly cold that she began to shiver at once. Immediately she began taking shallow breaths so that her exhalations would not give her away.

The sound of the doors slamming shut was a hollow boom in the chamber, and several icicles cracked and fell to the floor, breaking apart. Then all was quiet, far too quiet. The throne itself was empty, and Virginia felt intense dread as she began to look about surreptitiously for her enemy. She did not see her. Instead she saw two things that gave her pause. All along the walls stood troops of ice demons, even more grotesque and horrifying in person than they had been in the Spying mirror's images—perfectly still, as if joined to the floor, but each one bore some manner of weapon fashioned of ice: a sickle, a sword, a mace, an axe.

The second thing she saw was very much alive, three figures grouped together for protection near the foot of the throne. Two of them were extraordinarily tall while one was short, but they all wore leather, chains, spikes, and other metal adornments, and even from here she could smell their rancid odor.

_Oh no!_

Virginia barely stifled her groan of dismay in time. It was Burly, Blabberwort, and Bluebell. Despite her warnings, they had foolishly answered their letter as well. The ice demons she could handle. She had known about them, she had told Daviander, and he had incorporated them into the plan, assuring her he could fend them off. But the Trolls?

Throwing them into the fray was a great unknown, who knew which side they would take, whom they would attack, what mayhem and chaos they might cause! Could anything else go wrong?

"Your Majesties...how good of you to join us." The frigid, utterly emotionless voice crackled through the silence like an arctic wind in the icy branches of a skeletal tree. Trembling uncontrollably, Virginia turned with Carmine and Cinderella to watch as she stepped out from behind the throne, all pale and rigid, slim and shapely but devoid of all seductive grace.

Instead the Ice Queen manifested herself as a snow ghost, fragile and frozen, but possessing undeniable power exuded from every bleached strand of hair and every inch of gelid flesh. Her will when directed through the mirror was nothing compared to her actual presence. She seemed to give off a baleful, searing light, she was so incandescently white, so painful and chilling that Virginia went numb all throughout her body simply from looking at her.

Hers was a chill that went beyond cold, beyond any scientific understanding or measurement of temperature, an eidolon of ice that clutched its fingers into the spirit. Hers was a chill that defied all logic and reason, a power that snared the will and flung all in its path on a centripetal course to madness and despair. Her chill was a paradox, so cold it burned and consumed any pitiful flesh that stood in its way. It stabbed like a wedge of ice, deeper and farther than Virginia had ever believed possible.

It was, simply, a manifestation of pure malice, a hatred determined to crush all opposition.

Virginia was on the verge of giving up all hope, of surrendering herself before the impossible might of the Ice Queen, casting herself on the whims of the witch because she was already lost and without a chance of survival, when Cinderella's voice interrupted her tortured thoughts. "Queen Griselda...so it _is_ you. I thought as much."

Everything seemed to kaleidoscope around Virginia as she heard those words uttered, and somehow the hand of icy death that had inexorably wormed its way into her chest and grasped her fluttering heart was shattered like the shards of ice that composed it, thrown aside and wrenched free of her body, and she could breathe again. It all came down to that name. It was not the name itself that mattered; it was that the Ice Queen _had_ one.

All of this time, Virginia had known her only by a title, as if she were not truly human but a personification of winter, a natural force that could not be reckoned with, bargained with, reasoned with, a magical entity beyond the concerns of the world that was as unavoidable and relentless as winter itself. But no, now she knew differently. The Ice Queen had a name. That meant she was an individual, a person. She had thoughts and emotions, dreams and hopes, fears and worries like everyone else.

She had magic, yes, great magic that could yet conquer the Kingdoms. And she was more hateful and vindictive than anyone Virginia had met, even the Swamp Witch. _But she was human. She was mortal._ She could be killed, she was vulnerable, she was no embodiment of winter however much she might believe so herself. The Ice Queen was not omnipotent. She was not God. She had flaws, she could make mistakes.

Virginia's resolve strengthened once more, and she glared daggers at the sorceress who stood on the dais, all unaware of her presence. No, Griselda had no power over her. She was only one woman, one queen, and she had to be stopped.

Throughout all of her realizations, the Ice Queen had been studying Cinderella with amusement and disdain. Now at last she spoke once more. "You knew? You knew I was responsible for all that had occurred? How is that possible, you doddering old fool?"

"I am smarter than you think, Griselda," Cinderella replied with a mysterious smile. "I have the wits to challenge even you! I am not frail and decrepit, I am still the woman I always was, and you have deluded yourself into forgetting it!" She rose to her full height, back straight and shoulders squared, and Virginia was at once intensely proud of her for a reason she could not name. "Do not mock me, do not overlook me. I am still one of the Five Women Who Changed History, and you are not a part of that history, you are not in my tale. Begone with you, back to the Eighth Kingdom! I abjure you!"

Someone inhaled sharply. Then came a tremulous, but still blustering and cruel voice filled with contempt as Burly the Troll King stepped forward. "Yeah, you heard Cinderelly! Let us go if you know what's good for you! Suck an Elf, I am king of the Third Kingdom, and my brother and sister and I won't ever bow to you! We learned our lesson from the Evil Queen, we aren't going to fall for it again." He lifted his sword and waved it menacingly, first at the ice demons, then at the Ice Queen. "You can't hold us here, so we're going to leave, right now!"

He turned to stalk out, with Blabberwort and Bluebell nodding emphatically and scowling fiendishly before following, but before they had gone more than a few steps, three ice demons suddenly lurched into motion, silently blocking their path, while others moved to guard all the doors. Burly brandished his sword, but he fell back a pace as one demon came to tower over even him.

The Ice Queen, meanwhile, stood even more rigid and infuriated on the dais, her elegant face marred by her rage until every bone seemed to stand out, the muscles drawn so taut that Virginia could see every plane and angle of her skull. The effect was terrifyingly macabre. "You dare to command _me?"_ she shrieked at Cinderella. "You who are old and feeble, and never once in your life used the power that was yours?"

She pointed at Burly and his siblings. "And you, who are too stupid and brainsickly to realize when you are duped, when you are lied to and misled, twisted to the Evil Queen's own ends as she steals your kingdom right out from under you? You dare to challenge me?"

Slowly, ferally, she began to stalk down the steps of the dais toward the gathered group, and in spite of herself Virginia was once again caught in the grip of fear. The malevolence in the Ice Queen's eyes was indescribable. "I know you, Cinderella. I know your weaknesses, your illusions, your pride. I know you could not have known of my plans unless someone else told you. And it was you!"

A long, thin, bony finger pointed at Red Riding Hood. "You knew long ago, because the Lady Virginia informed you of every detail she gleaned from espionage, and still you are a vainglorious fool! You imprisoned her in your dungeon, and even now you stand before me because you were too driven by hatred and prejudice to see through my lies. I know you! I know you all!" She gestured around the room, at the living and the entombed.

"That is why it is my right to rule the Kingdoms. I have the power, I have _all_ power, more than any other witch still alive, and I belong at the head of every throne. The Kingdoms are mine, _mine,_ and none of you shall prevent me from claiming my destiny!" Her eyes by now had darkened from icy blue to an impenetrable onyx, the shade of black ice, and just as dangerous. They blazed with an insanity that made Virginia want to cover her face and cower on the floor.

But somehow, somehow, Cinderella and Carmine each stood their ground. The blue-gowned queen spoke first. "Really, Griselda, you should know better...you will never rule the Kingdoms, that was never the will of destiny. It was your own ambitions. You were given the Eighth Kingdom centuries ago, you were charged with maintaining order and balance between the ices of the north and the warmth of the south, and that was all. That is what the history books say, and what the magic mirrors reveal. The rest is all your fantasies."

"Fantasies that will not come true," Red Riding Hood added, inserting herself into the conversation. "Because you are wrong, you do not have all power. You have magic, yes, but you have no soul. No heart. We do, and therefore we, each and every one of us together, are stronger than you and always shall be. Even if you ensorcell us as you have the others, or murder us, we shall still win."

She jutted out her chin defiantly, and then she smiled grimly. "And in any case, we are not alone. For you were wrong about me, I broke through my prejudice and listened to reason. I listened to the Lady Virginia and her mate, I believed them and came here prepared to do whatever it takes to defeat you. And they, too, shall do the same...for they escaped my dungeons and are even now on their way here."

Virginia had been listening in admiration and awe to Red's speech, but as the queen made her final pronouncement, she wanted to strangle Carmine. The other woman seemed to realize her mistake too, but a second too late, and although she had not, thankfully, blown the entire plan by revealing the quest for the dragon, it was clear she had said enough to jeopardize it.

The Ice Queen had been seething with rage, but at the revelation that her enemies were free and en route to the palace, she managed to relax, to step back and gaze inscrutably at Carmine, and then to smile...slow, wicked, sly. When she replied, it was in the same cold, emotionless tone as when she had first appeared. "I see...I must thank you for informing me so well in advance of their arrival. I would so hate to be caught unawares. Now that I know of their coming, I can...arrange a lovely surprise for them." She laughed then, soft and brittle.

Carmine looked crestfallen, horrified, and distraught at what she had done. But before she could do any damage control, the Ice Queen stopped laughing abruptly and her face became as hard as stone. "Play-Queen, you know not what you say. I have more power than you can possibly imagine. Do you see what I possess?" She waved a hand theatrically around the throne, and Virginia stepped back in dismay, nearly stumbling on a pile of ice, as she saw what she had missed before.

They were here in the throne room, all of them, nearly hidden by the mounds of ice and snow—her mother's magic mirrors. Ancient relics of evil and colossal power, and they were now under Griselda's control. Once again the scales tipped away from Virginia, and this time she feared they would never tip back. They were doomed. Done for. Finished.

But the Ice Queen was still speaking sneeringly to Red Riding Hood, who had paled visibly. "Ah, I see you _do_ understand. But let me make a demonstration to reveal how truly powerful I am." She extended one beringed hand, more pale than an albino's and so thin it was nearly fleshless. It tensed minutely, fingers flexing like claws—and then Carmine screamed. Virginia wrenched her gaze from the Ice Queen to see Red Riding Hood almost as pale as her tormentor, a ghastly pallor flooding her cheeks as she clutched her chest.

The Ice Queen twitched a finger, and Carmine screamed again, shivering and gasping, her breath billowing out in huge clouds of bluish-white. Ice crystals began forming beneath her nostrils and around her eyes and lips, and her back arched painfully, parabolically. As far as Virginia could tell, the Ice Queen was not only freezing her, she was stopping her heart.

"Had enough yet?" Griselda inquired solicitously, conversationally. She smiled. "My power grows stronger each day, with each ensorcellment, and the mirrors only fuel and multiply it. No one can stand in my way. Not even Lady Virginia. When she arrives, I will be certain to give her your regards, and express the faith you have in her...because I am afraid you will not be here to do so in person."

She paused, touching a fingertip to her mouth thoughtfully. "How shall I dispose of you, I wonder?" she mused aloud. "Freezing you as I have the others seems far too anticlimactic. You five are the greatest threats to my reign. You deserve something...special..."

Virginia listened in growing dread. They had to do something, now! Now, while the Ice Queen was toying with and teasing her victims...they had to get into position, be ready to offer protection, be ready for battle, ready to summon Daviander. As Carmine writhed and twitched in agony, as Cinderella stood transfixed, and as the three Trolls backed toward the throne, herded by the ice demons and holding onto each other fearfully, Virginia jerked on Wolf's hand and began leading him across the room toward the place they had chosen to make their stand.

Meanwhile, the Ice Queen was still taunting Carmine. "Shall I send you through the Lethe mirror, perhaps? Cause you to forget all you are, all you were, all you ever shall be? Or the Mirror of Mnemosyne? Shall I entrap you for eternity in your most gruesome nightmares, your deepest shames, your most painful memories? Or shall I thrust you into the Traveling mirror? Banish you from the Kingdoms and seal you forever in a world where you cannot long survive? Oh, the possibilities are endless..."

Suddenly she broke off, frozen in place, eyes bulging as she stared across the room. Virginia started. The Ice Queen's eyes were fixed unerringly on her and Wolf, they had to be! It was impossible, but she was looking right at them! "No..." the Witch of Winter whispered. "No, it cannot be, they cannot already be here...not this close to victory..."

As all her attention fixed on the intruders, the spell was broken, and with a gasp of fear, pain, and sobbing relief, Carmine relaxed and went limp, still clutching her chest but no longer under the witch's power. She brushed away the crystallizing ice and then began to cry softly, wavering as she tottered about, ready to collapse.

"There!" the Ice Queen snapped, pointing directly to where Virginia and Wolf stood. "It is the Lady Virginia, it is Wolf!"

The ice demons rotated on ponderous feet, hollow eye sockets gazing curiously and unseeingly at the pair, but it was obvious they could not detect anything amiss. Cinderella and the Trolls had also turned and were peering incredulously at what was to them empty air. Virginia looked down hurriedly and discovered she still could not see herself or Wolf. What was going on? The shoes were still working...

"There!" the Ice Queen cried again, pointing this time behind Virginia and Wolf. "Look in yonder glass!"

Understanding hit Virginia like a bolt of lightning, and slowly she turned around to look behind them.

There, surrounded by festoons of ice but still suspended in its familiar niche, was a large, oval mirror hung vertically, glowing with a blue light—the same light that had come from the Ice Queen's wand in her dream. In the glass was reflected the entire throne room—Griselda on the dais; Carmine, Cinderella, and the Trolls at its base; the ice demons poised for battle...and as plain as day, her and Wolf with linked hands, and the golden Troll shoes on her feet.

The Truth mirror had given them away.

"Get them! Kill them!" the Ice Queen screamed, even as she threw out one arm, causing her wand to slide from its sleeve pocket into her hand. The star on its tip froze the air around it in a ball of ice.

The ice demons began to march toward them.

Virginia stood unmoving for a few heart-stopping seconds as she debated what to do. This wasn't how the plan had been devised, but Daviander had said they had to be ready to make adjustments as needed. Well, this was one hell of an adjustment, but it was now or never, and it was their only chance. She only hoped the dragon's hearing was as good as he'd claimed it was.

"Wolf!" she shouted. _"Now!"_

After one startled look in her direction, Wolf threw back his head and howled, a piercing, keening cry that echoed and reverberated around the throne room. More stalactites of ice broke free and plummeted to the floor, smashing into the tiles. The ice demons paused, wary and distracted. On the faces of Carmine and Cinderella was rising hope, while the Trolls crouched with hands over weapons, stupefied.

As the sound of the howl was still ricocheting and amplifying in the vaulted chamber, their prearranged signal, another sound joined it, a vast and colossal roar that almost seemed to shake the heavens, so deep and bellowing it made Virginia want to cover her ears. Then the light in the throne room was suddenly blocked out, casting it into dim shadow, as something enormous eclipsed the afternoon sun.

The Ice Queen whirled atop the dais, turning...Virginia saw her as from a great distance, a silhouette formed of icicles and sticks, a doll propped up by a careless child, one hand outflung with the wand held aloft...and beyond her, she saw another silhouette, far more massive and titanic...a silhouette with great wings flapping, spiked tail lashing, clawed feet extended. Daviander came like the chariot of Apollo as driven by Phaethon, bearing the sun as it hurtled toward the unsuspecting earth.

And to further foster the allusion, Daviander's mouth was agape, crimson and orange fire bursting out in a column of heat and incineration, expanding and billowing out like the blooming of the deadliest tropical flower known to man. He came flying at the vast, floor-to-ceiling windows that stood behind the throne, came flying without a single sign of stopping.

And then his strafing fire struck the plate-glass, and the entire bank of windows exploded, spraying fragments all across the throne room.


	21. Twenty: Forgotten Fate

**Twenty**: Forgotten Fate

Pouncing forward the moment he first heard the splintering of glass, Wolf threw himself onto Virginia and bore her to the floor, shielding her and their unborn cub with his body.

He acted on instinct alone, not even thinking; he didn't have to, he had known going into the palace that Daviander intended to use the windows as his means of entrance into the throne room. That had been the key piece of information Wolf had revealed to the dragon when he described the throne room, that the windows provided easy access once they were smashed. But Wolf had not expected Daviander's arrival to be quite so catastrophic.

The sound was incredible, a shivering, almost crystalline wave so high it hurt his ears. Intermixed was the dragon's roars, the shrieks of the Ice Queen, and the howling of the wind as it was abruptly unleashed on the chamber by the downbeat of Daviander's wings. Shards of glass fell across his greatcoat, and Wolf ducked his head as low as possible, whimpering. Beneath him he could feel Virginia struggling, but he was not about to let her go until it was relatively safe.

Finally the hail of plate-glass subsided, and Wolf felt secure enough to look up. The windows were completely gone, only jagged remnants still joined to the frame, where twisted bars that had once separated the panes hung crazily, creaking in the breeze. The floor was covered with glass, as thick as the snow and ice, but no one had been harmed in the blast. Cinderella, Carmine, and the Trolls had all taken cover behind the ensorcelled blocks of ice, while the Ice Queen herself cowered behind the throne.

But then, through the colossal hole that opened the throne room to the sky came Daviander, and Wolf half-sat on the floor, speechless at the sight. He came like a bird of prey, a manifestation of the Golden Age brought to the present, a creature of times long gone, a wondrous and mystical behemoth with untold grace, beauty, elegance, and might.

The moment was frozen forever in Wolf's mind, all his senses aflame as they captured every detail—the sooty smell of sulfur and brimstone burning in his nostrils, the taste of dry, dusty air, the heat radiating out from the dragon's bulk to dispel the frigid cold.

It imprinted itself on his memory, everything coming to a halt, all motion suspended, captured like the most vivid of paintings, with everything that came before and that would come after focused on this one moment. Daviander entered the throne room, hovered high above them all, just below the ice-encrusted chandeliers that hung from the vaulted ceiling, wings flapping lazily, neck arched sinuously, claws flexing and jaws working hungrily, his armored body not even scratched by the glass. He moved as if swimming, supple and beautiful, awe-inspiring and fearsome. He was a living legend, cast from a forgotten and shattered mold, his equal never to be seen again, an unparalleled majesty.

For the first time since he had seen Daviander, tears came to Wolf's eyes.

Then the moment was broken by the vilest shriek he had ever heard, and Daviander swung his serpentine neck to bring his blazing eyes to bear on the Ice Queen's slim figure on the dais. "Ice Queen!" he roared deafeningly. "Aroint thee, avaunt! An thou wouldst contend for mastery this day, contend with _me,_ O Mistress of Death and Cold!"

Rising to her full height, the Ice Queen glared up at the dragon, a roiling tumult of emotions mixing on her countenance—fear, horror, fury, hatred. Bringing her wand to bear, she cried, "Hear me, O Dragon! Thou art the last of thy kind! I have hunted ye to your doom adown all the hallowed ages, and now I shall at last rid the Kingdoms of your foul taint!" Screaming incoherently, she brandished the wand and let loose a blast of ice as powerful as the fire Daviander had previously exhaled.

But the dragon took another massive breath, his chest inflating immensely, and released another stream of fire that met the ice halfway between himself and the witch, and where the two met an explosion of flame and snow burst outward, shaking the castle to its foundations. After five long minutes the warring magics canceled out, dissipating harmlessly into the air. Wolf could quite clearly see the look of shock and disbelief on the Ice Queen's face.

"Is that the best thou canst do?" Daviander taunted her, laughing contemptuously as he winged back and forth across the chamber. "Thou hast grown old and feeble, Griselda! Come now, do thy worst!"

The Ice Queen trembled from head to foot, until even her crown of icicles looked in danger of toppling from her brow. Suddenly seeming to remember the rest of them were there, she shouted to her ice demons. "Destroy them! Kill them all, especially Wolf and the Lady Virginia! I shall deal with the dragon..." She turned back, pushing up her ermine-trimmed sleeves in preparation for combat.

Scrambling to his feet, Wolf helped Virginia up and looked around frantically. The ice demons were closing in rapidly, surrounding them in a great semicircle, and he had no weapons except for his teeth and claws, having hoped they could disarm or destroy the Ice Queen before the demons became a problem. Huff-puff, now what were they to do?

Beyond the monsters, he could see the other monarchs emerging from hiding as well. As he spotted the three Trolls, inspiration struck him. "Hey, Troll-boy! We could use a hand over here!"

Burly narrowed his eyes, gazing in the direction of Wolf's voice. "Why should we help you?" he demanded querulously. "You stole our magic shoes again!"

Dense, dense! How dense could Trolls be? "Because if you don't, we're _all_ going to get killed, that's why!" he practically screamed.

That seemed to get through to Burly. He glanced from his sister to his brother for advice; both of them, in contrast to him, seemed eager to fight, brandishing their weapons as they licked their dark, crooked teeth. Seeing which way the wind was blowing, Burly shrugged and smirked. "Very well, wolfie! Time for you to see how well Trolls can fight!" He drew his own blade and stalked toward the ice demons.

What began then was a monumental battle like none Wolf had ever before experienced. As Burly, Blabberwort, and Bluebell leapt forward and struck at the exposed backs of the ring of ice demons, Wolf himself assaulted them with claws and fangs, darting in and out, never in one place for very long. Because Virginia held onto his coat with a death-grip, he remained invisible, so the demons never knew where he was coming from or when he would strike.

At the same time, Daviander exhaled another blast of fire, only to be met by another whistling gale of ice from Griselda's wand. Back and forth he dodged, never tiring, relentless and fueled by an enmity that spanned centuries and eons, his enormous form circling the chamber to come at the Ice Queen again and again. The throne room rocked with the magics they wielded, as first fire, then ice sprayed indiscriminately from ceiling to floor. Fire slammed into the dais, hurling the throne backwards and sending the Ice Queen diving for cover. Then ice exploded upwards, just missing the dragon and instead forming an immense stalactite from an overhanging rafter.

All of this occurred out of the corner of Wolf's eye, as a backdrop to his own battle, for he could not dare to glance away more than a moment, the fight was so intense. Sweat streamed into his eyes as he pulled free of Virginia and dashed in yet again to slash at an ice demon's chest with his claws, but this time he was visible and too slow, and the beast snatched him from the ground with a roar like a snowstorm. Snow and ice billowed out of its cavernous maw, congealing on his face as he struggled in its icy grip. He was having trouble breathing, the hand squeezed his ribs so tightly.

Then Blabberwort was there, hacking and chopping with her shortsword, and in minutes the ice demon's hand had been cleaved from its arm. "Nicee nice!" she muttered, impressed in spite of herself. It staggered back, staring stupidly at its broken wrist as the missing appendage fell to the floor, breaking apart. Wolf felt Virginia at his side, working him free of the deathly cold grip, and he could not help shuddering as he staggered upright. He had come so close to dying there...

But there was no time for thought or even to take stock, for another demon was coming at him, and he had to leap aside. Grabbing a halberd from an ice-coated suit of armor in the corner, Wolf howled a battle-cry and leapt back into the fray, burying the blade, then the speartip, in the creature's chest. It fell back, confused and dazed, and then the three Trolls came at it from behind. Axes and maces smashed into the beast with impunity, first cracking, then splintering the ice demon. It howled in agony—the sound abruptly cut off as Wolf raised the halberd high and brought it smashing down to divide the demon's head cleanly in half. With a groan it fell to the floor and collapsed, inert.

Heartened, he and the Trolls turned to their next foe, for the demons were akin to animated statues, moving on their own accord but with no minds, thoughts, or intellects of their own, and so they made the mistake of coming at their opponents one at a time instead of as a group—which was a good thing, as otherwise there was no way Wolf or the Trolls could defeat them. As it was, they made a good team. Wolf smiled to himself and shook his head. Who would have thought such a turn of events could ever happen? War made strange huntpacks indeed...

Meanwhile, the Ice Queen was futilely trying to score a hit on Daviander, but the dragon was never in one place for very long, always crisscrossing the room in an unpredictable pattern, and the Ice Queen was fairly capering about on the smoking dais in her impotent fury. But even with the dragon's skill, luck could not stay with him forever. On one pass across the room, a blast of ice struck Daviander a glancing blow on one wingtip, but it was enough to freeze the leathery skin in place, forming thick icicles that impaired his flying ability. Growling in outrage, Daviander flapped his wing desperately, trying to crack the ice, but it was no use. Careening out of control, he gyrated downwards toward the floor.

Wolf heard Virginia scream, and he looked up in time to see Daviander hurtling down toward him. "Oh cripes!" Leaping out of the way, he slid across the icy floor until he bumped to a stop against someone's feet. As he used their legs to struggle back up, he was shocked to see it was Carmine.

They only had time for one quick exchanged glance before Red screamed, "Look out!" She shoved him down and threw a long, jagged-bladed knife with a scarlet hilt over his shoulder. Turning, he was stunned to see the knife buried in an ice demon's face, blinding it as it staggered helplessly around the room, leaving it disoriented and easy pickings for the Trolls, who soon hacked it apart. The force Red must have used for that throw was astonishing...he'd had no idea she had it in her...

But Daviander was still falling, and the Ice Queen was cackling in triumph as she prepared for another devastating cascade of ice. At the last moment, however, the dragon twisted in his fall and slammed his wing against a pillar. The ice on his wing broke off in a shower of snow that rained down on Bluebell, to his annoyance. Then Daviander was righting himself, arcing back up toward the ceiling. The Ice Queen howled in fury and pointed her wand again, but this time when the ice neared its mark, the dragon dodged—and the ice struck a chandelier.

With a groaning of marble ceiling tiles, the chandelier ripped free and plummeted toward the floor. Everyone managed to get out of the way of the descending light fixture—except for the ice demons. Fully half of the Ice Queen's ranks of soldiers were crushed by the thousands of pounds of gold, brass, and crystal. She stared at them in horror, the expression on her face rather suggesting she had just seen her children murdered before her eyes. Wolf smirked at her, although inwardly he could not help but wince at the damage they were causing. He hoped Wendell wouldn't take the bill for the repairs out of _his_ pocket. Maybe Red would pay for it.

That idle thought was banished, however, as the Ice Queen clenched her fists and screamed at all those arrayed against her. _"No!_ I shall not be defeated, not by powerless, pitiful fools like you!" She glared scathingly at the three Trolls, who stood over the fallen body of another ice demon they had hacked to pieces. "I will do what I should have done as soon as you all arrived!" She pointed the wand skewer-like at Burly, Blabberwort, and Bluebell.

A sheet of ice howled with hurricane force toward the Trolls, bolstered by the Ice Queen's rage, but only an instant after it struck, she was already turning toward the rest of them. Her eyes glinted with a cold so bitter it made Wolf's heart lurch. He had no time to think of himself, however, or the Trolls, for the Ice Queen was already unleashing her magic again, twice more in rapid succession.

He acted without thinking, running faster than he had ever run before even when in lupine form, hurling himself at the scarlet-cloaked form of Red Riding Hood III. As he knocked her to the floor, he saw the Troll King's shoes appear out of nowhere and bounce across the tiles, and then Virginia glittered into visibility as she in turn grabbed hold of Cinderella's periwinkle gown and pulled her down as well.

The blasts of ice just missed both monarchs, spraying benignly against the wall behind them.

His breath heaving in great gasps, Wolf lay atop Carmine in a mirror image of his earlier protective shielding of Virginia. He gazed down at her in shock as the enormity of what he had done penetrated his mind, and she too stared up at him in equally stunned disbelief. "You...you saved my life, Wolf..." Her voice was soft, amazed, and grateful. "Why?"

That was a very good question, but although he could not answer it in full, both because of the demands of the battle and the fact that he didn't know why himself, he did have an inkling of the reason. It all came down to what he had seen in Carmine since arriving at the palace...how she had argued their case and worked to save the Kingdoms all on her own, how she had appealed to Cinderella and then later insulted and distracted the Ice Queen when she had no way of knowing Wolf and Virginia were there to witness it.

"Well, you saved mine, Auntie," he shrugged. "Fair is fair. Besides...you're family. Which means if anyone gets to kill you, it's me." He smirked and winked at her, and found to his surprise that he really did mean it as a joke, not a threat. Something profound had just changed in their relationship, and she seemed to see it, too, as she gazed up at him in wonderment.

But they had no time to explore the matter further. In fact, Wolf was confused as to why he and Carmine had not been frozen while they paused to converse. When he looked up, he saw why. The Ice Queen was just a tad distracted at the moment, seeing as Daviander had taken her by surprise and was now assaulting her with blast after blast of fire. Smoke and steam filled the air, obscuring the dais and the room around it for twenty feet, while flames licked along the steps and pillars, their witch-like crackling providing an eerie counterpoint to the dragon's roars and growls.

Rising to his feet and helping Red up, Wolf looked and saw that the three Trolls had joined the ranks of the other monarchs, frozen solid in one enormous block of ice. An odd thought came to him, that the children of Relish, caught as they were in the act of trying to duck, were in almost the exact same positions as when they had been turned to gold nine months ago. Huff-puff, what a coincidence.

Then the smoke and fire parted as the Ice Queen stood erect on the dais, pointing her wand yet again at Daviander. The enchanted ice was already spurting upwards, chasing the dragon across the room, and each blast came nearer and nearer. It was only a matter of time.

"Wolf!" Virginia shouted. He turned to see her helping Cinderella into a chair. "The wand! Remember the plan!"

Of course, how could he have forgotten! It must have been the violence of the battle and the surprise of both the Trolls and Carmine changing sides that put it out of his mind.

Hurriedly he turned back toward the dais. The Ice Queen had her eyes fixed on Daviander, she was not even paying attention to the rest of them. As the dragon had predicted, although she had sent the ice demons after them and tried to freeze them, she saw Daviander as the only real threat to her, and that was her mistake.

A growing feral ferocity burned in his heart as he stared at Griselda, her every feature etched into his mind. This was the witch who had threatened the Kingdoms he loved, put Virginia in mortal danger once again, and who at this moment was trying to destroy the only remaining dragon...a creature for which he empathized acutely, a creature he longed to protect so he could live, could rise above the prejudice and hatred as Wendell's pardon was enabling the wolves to do. She had to be stopped. She did not deserve to live. No punishment would satisfy him except ripping her throat out with his own fangs.

Growling and snarling, his eyes burning a brilliant gold, Wolf launched himself toward the dais.

* * *

Breathing fast and hard, as if she had just run twenty laps, Virginia supported herself on the carved frame of the antique chair where Cinderella sat, watching in desperate hope and frantic fear as Wolf ran across the throne room to confront the Ice Queen hand-to-hand. She knew there was no other way to resolve this battle, that they had to disarm Griselda before she could be captured or killed, and that Wolf, with his strength, dexterity, and cleverness was the only one who could do it. But the dream still haunted her every moment. Carmine had not betrayed them, and Daviander had escaped his icy tomb before it had a chance to fully form, but the rest could still come true. Wolf could still be killed...

As he reached the steps, the Ice Queen turned, saw him, and brought her wand into play, but just as she sent another barrage of wintry wind toward him, he slipped on a stray patch of ice and fell to the floor. The fall saved his life, as the frigid ice passed right through where he had been standing and covered the golden doors of the throne room. Before she could recover and reorient, Wolf was there, crawling up the steps, latching onto her ankle, and pulling. The Ice Queen went down, and Wolf was upon her.

But the Witch of Winter was no easy target, and in moments she was struggling back to her feet, with Wolf clinging tenaciously to her arms, pinning them to her sides. She still held the wand, but at the moment it was useless as she flailed about with it. Wolf snapped at her face, and she recoiled violently, managing to pull one arm free of his grip. Unfortunately it was the arm that held the wand.

"Wolf!" Virginia screamed.

At the last possible second Wolf snatched the Ice Queen's wrist with his free hand, turning the wand away so that it coated the ceiling in ice instead of himself. And then began a wild, desperate struggle for control of the wand. Virginia watched breathlessly, unconsciously mimicking Wolf's movements, wielding her clenched fists in the air as if she could give him her strength. He certainly didn't need it, however, the tendons and sinews in his wrists and arms quivered and tensed like steel cables as he fought the Ice Queen every step of the way.

They stumbled across the broken dais, the wand vacillating back and forth between them, shooting out random bursts of ice and snow. More windows broke, a chandelier became a gigantic snowball, a raging wind and churning clouds escaped out the windows Daviander had broken to dump snow all across the rear gardens of the palace, while blue lightning bolts spattered and smashed against the walls. Virginia found herself constantly ducking, even when it was not necessary.

Then, as she glanced to the side, she was horrified to see a troupe of ice demons coming toward her and the two queens. There were only six left after the Trolls, Wolf, and the chandelier debacle had gotten through with them, but that was more than enough to kill or injure any of them. And none of them had any weapons, unless she could figure out how to use her magic. Apparently the demons had amazingly decided to take matters into their own hands and attack those who had put their mistress in danger.

"Daviander!" Virginia cried, even as she cursed herself for being so helpless as to constantly appeal to others for protection.

The dragon, who had been hovering watchfully near the ceiling, flapping his wings in massive beats and keeping his azure eyes fixed firmly on Wolf and the Ice Queen, looking for an opening to attack anew, turned and saw at once what was wrong. Inhaling deeply, he sent a sheet of flame at the floor surrounding the ice demons, ringing them into a circle of fire. Moaning in anguish and fear, the demons huddled together in the center of the circle, not daring to come near what could melt them. One problem solved, for now.

Clenching her fists, Virginia looked back to the dais and saw Wolf had his hands on the wand now, struggling for possession of it as he shoved the Ice Queen back against a pillar. She bit her lip and concentrated, willing her magic to rise up and give her the power she needed, but without training her will was diffuse, and all she felt was a tingling warmth in her hands and heart.

She was about to try again when she felt a hand tug on her sleeve. Turning, she saw Cinderella sitting up, alert and determined, in her chair. "Lady Virginia!" she hissed, squeezing her elbow tightly. "You must do something, Lord Wolf cannot stop Griselda alone!"

"I know!" Virginia whimpered. "But what can I do...what..." She paused as her eyes fell on the wrought-iron shape of the Spying mirror standing not far from the dais, and then it burst on her sight with the wonderful irony of fate. "Of course! The mirrors! They were my mother's, I can still command them, we can use the mirrors against her!" The Ice Queen had appropriated them for her own use, but now they would be her downfall.

Cinderella, however, looked troubled. "Are you certain, Lady Virginia? The mirrors are evil and dangerous...and which one shall you use? You wouldn't send her through the Traveling mirror, I should hope."

"No, of course not! I'd never unleash that witch on my world..." Her eyes darted around the semicircle, from one mirror to the next—and then she knew which one to use, what she had to do.

Just as she made her decision, there was a mingled cry of triumph and despair on the dais, and Virginia turned to see Wolf wrench the wand out of the Ice Queen's hand. Taking it in both hands, he grinned fiendishly at the witch, displaying all of his formidable fangs, then lifted one knee and snapped the wand in two over it.

A flash of intensely blinding light came from the severed halves of the wand, and Wolf was thrown backwards down the dais, slamming into the floor in the center of the circle of mirrors. Before he could get to his feet, the Ice Queen was dashing down the steps toward him, her eyes blazing with pure hatred and pain. In her hand was a long, cruel knife.

The knife from her dream.

Just as the blade was about to come down, Wolf threw up his arms so that instead of stabbing into his chest, it pierced one forearm. He howled in agony, but as she wrenched the blade free, he grabbed hold of her knife arm and thrust her backwards, rolling with her across the floor. Her blade flashed again and again, sometimes missing completely and sometimes tearing cloth, but Virginia could not tell if he was being wounded or not.

There was no more time. She had to act, and act now. But the mirror she wanted was on the far side of the circle from where she stood. If she went over to it herself to activate it, she wouldn't have enough time to get back to her starting point and attack before the Ice Queen landed a killing blow on Wolf. She needed someone to help her...

Wheeling back to the two queens, she blurted out, "I need one of you to go over there and turn the mirror on for me."

They stared at her, dumbfounded, for half a second, before Cinderella wheezed, "I'm two hundred years old, and all this confrontation has worn me out, Lady Virginia. I could never make it over there." She held onto the arms of her chair weakly.

Carmine, however, after the initial shock, had risen to her full height and was gazing at Virginia with determination, bravery, and unwavering loyalty. "I shall do it then. Simply tell me what it is I have to do."

For what felt like an eternity, but was only a minute or so, Virginia met Red Riding Hood III's blue-eyed gaze, searching her soul for any hint of duplicity. She could not find it. All she could find was a woman with pain and regret and guilt weighing her down, seeking to make amends. All she saw was a woman who only wanted to be trusted this once.

She had no choice. She had to trust Carmine now.

"All right...you have to find the catch, on the mirror's frame. It's got to be on either the left or right-hand side..."

It only took seconds to explain and for Virginia to get into position behind the Traveling mirror, which was directly across from the one she had selected. In that time, the Ice Queen had managed to rip Wolf's greatcoat to shreds, but he had in turn battered her face and knocked her crown askew, breaking off several of its rays. As Virginia held onto the rune-carved frame, Griselda brought her knife down again, and this time it stabbed into Wolf's shoulder. He howled again, tears of agony streaming down his cheeks as she ground it into the wound, but somehow, somehow, he was able to squeeze her wrist until the bones began to crack. Shrieking, the Ice Queen pulled back, letting go of the knife, letting Wolf get hold of it and work it out of his shoulder...

Across the circle, Carmine had bypassed the Mirror of Mnemosyne and the Seeking mirror and was now frantically searching the frame of the final mirror in the ring, running her hands over the intertwined serpents that composed it... _Oh, Carmine, please do this one thing right..._

Wolf threw away the knife, sending it skittering across the floor. The Ice Queen leaped at him again, getting both of her hands around his throat, proceeding to strangle him as he pounded his good hand against her back and shoulders...

Working her hands down the side of the mirror, Red Riding Hood finally seemed to find something. One of the serpent's heads moved, shifted under her palm. Her shoulders slumping in relief, the queen angled the piece of maple to the side, and at once the mirror's glass began to glow and shimmer...

The Ice Queen's face was maniacal and insane, eyes bulging, lips curled back from her gritted teeth as she throttled Wolf, pushing him against the floor and pinning his other arm down with her shoulder. Wolf was still struggling, trying to get his arm high enough to strike her...

Virginia tensed, feeling the magic at last begin to flare inside her, burning, building, flowing through every limb, her hands radiating white light...

Wolf wrenched his arm free and bashed the Ice Queen in the temple. Crying out, she lost her grip and he threw her aside, sending her rolling on the floor. She came to a stop...directly beside the knife. Cackling in glee, the witch grabbed the weapon, rising to her feet and turning a final time to face her opponent. She raised the knife high as, with a long, blood-curdling scream, she ran full-tilt toward Wolf where he struggled to rise...

And at that moment, Virginia leaped out from behind the Traveling mirror, jumped over Wolf, and intercepted the Ice Queen. She slammed into her with all her might, sending her tumbling back, off-balance, tripping. Virginia pursued her, pushing her again and again, her magic flaring each time and shoving the witch back another few feet. They were almost to the mirror now.

"Mirror!" she shouted. "Take this witch, remove her from this world for all time! Never let her remember who she is, or where she came from, or anything at all! Make her forget until she is absolutely nothing!"

Then with one last shove, Virginia sent the Ice Queen flying—right into the depthless void of the Lethe mirror.

Griselda's scream was piercing, so high and horrible it could scrape bones raw, as she fell back into the mirror's frame. At the last instant she caught hold of the maple wood with both hands, digging her fingernails in as deep as claws, preventing her from falling in completely. The Lethe mirror glowed incandescently, shaking from side to side as it sought to do Virginia's bidding, and an incredible suction began, a vortex of magic so strong it made every loose object in the throne room tumble and flip through the air.

Candlesticks, statuettes, knickknacks, coins, and other unidentifiable articles flew into the mirror, pelting the Ice Queen indiscriminately, but still she held on. Virginia felt herself stumble forward as the mirror latched onto her as well, and even Daviander, high in the throne room, seemed to feel it, flapping his wings frantically.

"Carmine!" Virginia yelled as she ran to the Lethe mirror. The queen was at her side at once, and together both of them grabbed onto the frame to keep from being sucked in.

Beyond the Ice Queen's gaunt visage was only a rotating maelstrom of mist and blackness, circling and churning like an immense whirlpool. It almost resembled an evil eye, staring at them, and Virginia had to restrain herself from being enchanted by its hypnotic power into letting go and stepping inside.

Ripping her gaze away, she pounded on one of the Ice Queen's hands while Carmine did the same on the other side. Gripping the frame with her free hand until the knuckles turned even whiter and bracing herself with her feet, the witch let go with her knife hand and began lashing out blindly with it. Holding on against the howling wind, Virginia could barely dodge the blows, and Red was having the same trouble.

Then the Ice Queen struck, stabbing out at Carmine. The queen screamed, nearly falling to her knees, and all the blood rushed from her face as she stumbled weakly, leaning against the mirror. But finding a well of determination, the auburn-haired woman hauled back and with all her strength punched Griselda right in the face. Stunned, the witch recoiled and her other hand loosened on the frame.

Knowing this was the only advantage she would receive, Virginia slammed her fist down on the Ice Queen's hand, then blasted her once more with the white light of her magic. There came the sound of scraping wood, and then the witch's hand came free of the frame.

_"Nooooooooooooooo!"_ The sound of Griselda's cry would echo in Virginia's mind and haunt her for the rest of her life. It was a thin, inhuman wail, a sound of such fear, terror, horror, and despair that it seemed to embody all the suffering of those who had ever lived, of those whom the witch had frozen and killed in her centuries-long lifetime. As Virginia watched in mingled shock and grim pleasure, the Ice Queen tumbled back into the vortex, rotating and turning endlessly.

Then the hatred and fear left her face as a blank look crossed it, her eyes becoming empty, totally devoid of any thought, emotion, or memory. She fell back, sucked deeper and deeper, her knife falling with her, until she faded away completely and was gone.

Gasping and trembling, Virginia pulled back from the inexorable suction of the Lethe mirror, tears pouring down her cheeks as the fading of the adrenaline rush left her feeling hollow, and allowed her in turn to feel the full force of what had happened to Wolf, and nearly happened to her. Horrified, she hung onto the mirror's frame as she stretched across the vortex and snapped the serpent's head back into place. Weeping, she watched the glass flash once and go dark, cutting off the wind, then return to its normal appearance, glimmering faintly. She went limp, panting with her exertions.

Yet that was not enough for her. The mirror was evil and should never be used again, and she would take no chance that Griselda, even memoryless, might return to the Kingdoms.

Grabbing onto the frame, she pulled with all her strength, lifting the heavy mirror forward on its stand. With one last, groaning, grunting cry that seemed to require all her flagging energy, Virginia brought the Lethe mirror crashing down. It slammed into the marble floor before the dais and smashed into a thousand pieces.

* * *

Quiet, deep and pervasive, settled down over Wendell's throne room. It was such a marked contrast to all the violence and terrifying noise of the heated battle that had swept wildly around the dais for the past hour or so that it was almost unnatural, deafening in its silence. Slowly inhaling and exhaling as her heart stopped thudding in her chest, Virginia gazed down calmly and proudly at the remnants of the Lethe mirror, the evidence of the final venting of her fury, and relief flooded through her.

It was over. It was truly over. She'd done it. Somehow, after all the worry and fear, the confusion and doubt, she had succeeded in vanquishing the Ice Queen. The Kingdoms had been saved.

But at what cost? she suddenly wondered. As her churning emotions finally eased and logic and reason reasserted themselves, she realized what she had done. She had broken a magic mirror. Seven years' bad luck. And surely the luck associated with an evil glass such as this would be much worse than what her father had suffered after breaking the Traveling mirror. But what else could she have done? The Ice Queen had to be prevented from ever coming back. And the mirror had belonged to the Swamp Witch originally, so it had to be a deadly and diabolical device.

Finally, it was this very glass that had been used to wipe her mother's memories. However much it might have healed Christine and restored sanity to her mind, it had also robbed her of her life, made it so that she could never come home again. For that reason alone Virginia could never forgive the Lethe mirror. It deserved to be broken.

Even so, she gazed one last time at the cracked and split maple that had been the frame, her eyes somehow finding with revulsion and horror the deep grooves in the wood left by Griselda's fingernails. The Ice Queen had been evil...but that did not make her fate any less disturbing and awful. It was something she would never forget, something she did not know if she could ever come to terms with. She'd had no choice, it had been her or the witch, and after what she had nearly done to Wolf, Virginia could have killed her with her bare hands. Yet her conscience lingered, wondering if things could have been different. She didn't think so, but...

Sighing, she turned away from the halo of broken glass and looked back across the room. As she did, she saw Wolf finally make it to his feet and stumble toward her, and at once all thought of Griselda and the mirror were driven from her mind. The demands of the battle and her own conflicted emotions had prevented her from truly realizing what had happened, but now with stark clarity the severe wounds Wolf bore registered, and at once she started to cry again. "Oh, Wolf...Wolf...are you all right?"

"Why...certainly, Virginia...never felt better..." he gasped, leaning against the Spying mirror. After a few minutes he seemed to recover his breath and could speak normally again. "But huff-puff, I could sure use a nice roast mutton and a loooooong sleep in the den..."

In spite of herself Virginia started to laugh. That was her Wolf, all right. If he could still fixate on sheep, he couldn't be too badly off. She was just starting in his direction when a strange cracking, crunching sound attracted her attention. Puzzled, she turned...and stared. In the center of the ring of fire, which was slowly dwindling and guttering out, the ice demons formed a pathetic, mournful group, but even as she watched, their bodies began to calve, great chunks of melting ice falling off to smack wetly against the tiles, and they were dripping copious streams of runoff. In only a few minutes, there was nothing left of them but pieces of ice and a growing puddle on the floor.

Beyond them, then, she saw that the throne room, too, was melting, water trickling and gurgling down the walls and dripping from the ceiling, icicles breaking off, sheets of crystalline glaciers sliding downwards to sag and dissolve at the baseboards. The sound soon became as loud and powerful as a mountain river, and the floor was fast becoming a small lake. Already she could feel the ambient temperature rising, and as the wind blew in through the shattered windows to stir and ripple the water, she could smell pollen, grass, horse manure, and flowers. They were the most welcome smells she could remember, the smells of summer.

The spell was broken.

Virginia met Wolf's eyes, and despite the pain and anguish there, she could see a relaxation of the tension that had haunted them since starting this quest, the release of all their worries and fears now that victory was theirs. Not needing to say a word, she turned again and looked back at Carmine, who had followed much more slowly and now stood between her and the mirror, holding one hand to her stomach. "Carmine! We did it! Don't you see, the magic is wearing off!"

Hurrying to the queen's side, she smiled at her, so caught up in the wonder of the moment that all her suspicions and hatreds for this woman were brushed aside, replaced only by excitement and celebration. Acting on instinct, she embraced Red Riding Hood III, and was surprised when Carmine hugged her back.

It was then, as she pressed herself to the monarch, that she felt something wrong—a throbbing, pumping heat against her abdomen, sticky and thick, and growing hotter and heavier by the minute. Puzzled, she reached down between them...and her hand came back a vivid scarlet. Staring in horror at Carmine, she saw her blue eyes unfocus and roll back in her head, and then she sagged, collapsing in her arms.

"Carmine!" Catching the queen, she let her slowly slide to the floor, and it was only as she crouched over her that she realized the truth. The royal robes of the Second Kingdom, being crimson, had hidden the extent of her injury. The wound was deep, incredibly deep, directly over her liver if she remembered anatomy correctly, and it was spurting and leaking blood at an astonishing rate. A brief vision flashed before her eyes of Griselda's last moments, when her knife had stabbed outward. "Wolf, get over here!"

He was at her side in only a few moments, helping her clear away the glass and rest his aunt gently on the floor with one arm as the other hung fairly useless and dripping blood. "Oh, cripes...oh, huffity-puffity..." She could tell from the ashy look on his face that the wound was as life-threatening as she'd feared—or was that grayish color only due to Wolf's own injuries?

As Wolf started tearing out the lining of his greatcoat to staunch the flow, Virginia turned desperately for help. Cinderella still sat in her chair, but was slowly rising to her feet. Daviander was hovering watchfully in the center of the room, but as she met his gaze, he flew closer and settled to the floor with a crunch of glass and a solid thud. "Daviander, you have to melt my father and Wendell so they can tell us where the doctor is. Carmine may die..."

"Hmph," the dragon commented laconically. "So now thou dost vouchsafe to offer succor to Red Riding Hood III, when before thou didst only wish to kidnap her? Ah, now I understand thy logic."

Stricken, Virginia reeled back from the accusation. She hadn't expected that, she hadn't even thought Daviander would care, let alone judge her and Wolf's actions. It was also not something she really needed to deal with right now. "People change, Daviander. We were wrong about her...and anyway, we don't want her to die, so just help out, would you? Please?" She begged him, not only with her words, but with her eyes.

Something in her expression and tone must have convinced him of her sincerity, for the dragon soon nodded and turned to the ranks of ensorcelled ice blocks, which apparently still needed his magic fire to be melted. As soon as she saw him bathing the first prisoners with orange flames, she relaxed and turned back to Carmine.

The auburn-haired woman was breathing shallowly, her complexion almost as pale as the Ice Queen's had been, and she hissed in pain whenever Wolf pressed too hard with his makeshift bandages. She looked up as Virginia met her gaze. "Well, Lady Virginia...it looks as if...you get your wish...I shall trouble you and Wolf...no more..."

"Stop that," Virginia admonished her, even as her voice shook. "You're not going to die!"

"Yes...I am..." Carmine moaned. "I can see...the look in your eyes. And it...it's better this way. I knew coming...coming here that I might die. I accepted it. I even...welcomed it. Now...now it is up to you...and Wolf...to right my wrongs...to end the persecution...and the hatred..." She coughed, hacking up blood, and nearly passed out from the pain.

Virginia stared at her in shock, both at the unexpected blessing and the distress she felt at seeing Carmine dying before her eyes. This was not the same woman who had so viciously attacked her back in Incarnadine, or who had nagged and complained throughout the journey west, or who had made scathing comments about wolves, or hit the Piper over the head with a rock.

This wasn't even the same woman who had curled up beside the campfire and shivered like a lost little girl. This was someone else entirely, someone with a heart and compassion, tenderness and understanding. Someone who only wanted to make a supreme gesture to undo her many evils. Someone Virginia could no longer hate...and who she wished she could come to know.

Snow White had been right...all of their destinies had been tied together, if not for Carmine, the Ice Queen would never have been so goaded into anger as to make so many mistakes; and without her Virginia could never have activated the mirror in time. She had changed, she had finally changed...and it seemed so brutally unfair that it came too late.

Despite all that Carmine had done, tears came to Virginia's eyes.

"All this self-sacrifice is quite noble and affecting," came a dry, sardonic voice behind her. "But I'm afraid it's all for nothing, Carmine." Virginia turned to see Cinderella standing over them, her arms crossed over her chest and one elegant eyebrow raised.

"What do you mean?" the queen of the Second Kingdom protested weakly. "Please, Cindy...do not sully my final hours of life on earth...let me die peacefully...and without a struggle." She placed one hand on Wolf's. "You can stop pretending you want to save me, Wolf. I know the truth. Please...I know I deserve a far more cruel death for all I have done...but this was my destiny. So let me go...I know what I know, and it is...my time."

Before Wolf could do more than growl softly at his aunt's presumptuousness, another voice interrupted the tableau—a firm, aristocratic male voice that was wonderfully familiar. "I hope you're not too disappointed when you wake up the day after tomorrow and find out you haven't died, Red."

Again Virginia turned, knowing who she would see. There, next to his grandmother and looking as dignified, royal, and handsome as ever despite his rather sodden white uniform, was Wendell, a strange mixture of sternness, worry, and amusement on his long face with its receding jawline. Beside him stood the crotchety old Royal Physician, also dripping, and beyond him was—

"Dad!" Leaping to her feet, Virginia ran as fast as she could, ignoring Carmine's rather unladylike mutterings as she rushed into Tony's arms and embraced him tightly. His shirt was soaked, but she didn't care as she buried her face in his shoulder and hugged him tighter than she ever had in her life. He hugged her back more gently, but with just as much love. "Oh, Dad, I'm so glad to see you! I thought...I was afraid that..." She bit her lip and pulled back, staring up and stroking his cheek, hardly daring to believe this was really happening. She'd dreamt of it for what seemed like so long now...

After she had blinked the tears from her eyes and could see again, she hugged him again and then stepped back, taking his hands in hers. "Are you okay?"

"Me?" he laughed. "You're the one I should be asking that, you're the one who was out here fighting those ugly frozen monsters and an ice witch! We could see everything, but we couldn't do anything..." He trailed off and swallowed against a large lump in his throat.

"Oh, honey, I was so scared, more scared than I've ever been in this crazy place. I thought I was going to lose you, right in front of my eyes, and I wouldn't be able to do a damn thing to stop it." Now he was the one with tears in his eyes.

Flicking her eyes to the side, Virginia saw Daviander watching from a few feet away, his azure eyes moist as well as he witnessed their reunion, and then the dragon looked away. Tony followed her gaze and shuddered. She couldn't blame him for being frightened or distrustful of Daviander when she hadn't acted much better at their first meeting, but she still couldn't help but bristle inwardly at her father's prejudgment. He didn't even know the dragon, what he was like inside...

"It's all right now, though," she said softly. "Everything's okay, we're together now."

"Are you sure?" Tony asked with concern, his face as rumpled and earnest as ever. "You didn't get hurt or anything? Nothing's wrong?"

"I wouldn't say that." The voice was Wolf's. Virginia turned to see him rising from a quick consultation with the doctor, who was already at Carmine's side and, to her relief, checking her wound with a thorough, expert touch as he opened his medical pouch. As soon as he saw Red was in good hands, Wolf strode in their direction, wincing a little.

Tony, meanwhile, had been staring in disbelief at Wolf. He turned back to Virginia in consternation. "What is he talking about? What's wrong?" Then, with a suspicious look at Wolf, "What did you do to my daughter—besides get her pregnant?"

Virginia flinched. Five months ago, before she'd started showing, she had gently informed her father of his impending grandfatherhood. Needless to say, he had been none too happy, since he had managed to convince himself that Wolf's parting words on going back through the mirror had only been a joke. But he had accepted the situation, albeit with ill grace, more she thought because this was one more way in his mind for Wolf to maneuver Tony out of her life than because he didn't want a grandchild or didn't like Wolf. Yet a certain hostility still existed between Tony and Wolf and flared up at odd moments. Like now.

Shaking aside the same old thoughts and worries, she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, what _do_ you mean, Wolf? This I'd like to hear."

Wolf looked distinctly uncomfortable under all this scrutiny, but Virginia was not about to relent. Shifting his gaze aside, he whimpered and pointed at the shattered Lethe mirror. "The mirror, Virginia...you really shouldn't have broken it."

Tony gasped, as if suddenly recalling what had taken place, and looked dumbly from the broken glass to Virginia. "That's right! That's seven years' bad luck...how could you do that, Virginia? And after all the crap you put me through over the Traveling mirror! I can't believe this, I just can't believe this, this is just great—!"

He rattled on for several minutes in the same way, berating her over and over for her stupidity, showing no signs of stopping. Virginia rubbed her forehead. Suddenly she remembered what she hadn't missed about her father. Plus, he and Wolf were voicing the fears she'd already had a short while ago, which made her even more upset.

When Tony paused to take a breath, she rolled her eyes and said, "I think I liked you better in the ice."

Whatever he would have said was swallowed as he droned to a halt, giving her that hurt look she knew all too well. "But, honey, remember what happened to me the last time? Let's see, I got hit by a rock, I stepped on a nail, we lost our pack, I got stung by wasps—you weren't there for that, were you?—I broke the Dwarves' mirrors and then my back..."

"Please, don't remind me!" she snapped. "Look, it was my mirror, wasn't it? I can do whatever the hell I want with it. And I've got magic of my own, wouldn't that help me cancel it out? Besides, if I do get bad luck we can always have Snow White get rid of it like she did for you."

Her emotions were getting the better of her and her voice was rising, attracting the attention of Wendell and Cinderella, and she really didn't want to have to deal with all this. Not now, so soon after a victory she had wanted to savor, and when she had wanted more than anything to lie down and rest. She had probably overexerted herself, in fact she felt rather queasy.

Wolf and Tony were exchanging uncertain and worried glances, for once united in their common concern. She didn't blame them, her excuses sounded lame even to her. But nothing could be done about it now, so she just turned her back on them and gazed off stonily across the throne room.

Daviander had been quietly continuing the process of melting and releasing all the other monarchs and courtiers. Virginia noticed the three Trolls had been freed and now stood alone and abandoned by the wreckage of the chandelier, looking as forlorn and sad as if they had lost their last friend. Seeing them reminded her of something she needed to do, something that would give her an excuse to get away from Wolf and her father. Picking her way through the melting ice, she searched the floor for a while until finally she found the magic shoes where she had discarded them. Then, with a determined stride, she headed toward the Trolls.

They started as they saw her approaching, and Burly placed a hand warningly on his axe handle, but she ignored him, instead stepping up to Blabberwort. As she did she held out the shoes. "We didn't steal them again," she declared simply. "I found them washed up on the bank of the river, after we met you in the forest. They were very useful to us on our quest...in fact they probably helped us save the Kingdoms. And so did you, when you fought the ice demons. So here." She placed the shoes in Blabberwort's slack grip. "Take them with our blessing...and our gratitude."

Blabberwort stared at her as if she had grown another head, her mouth working fish-like for several minutes. Then she clutched the shoes possessively to her chest and nodded slowly. "That's...very nicee nice of you, girlie. I suppose...we were wrong about you." She said it as if she were eating something a Troll found disgusting, such as a sweet pastry.

"Yeah," Bluebell mumbled sullenly. "Guess we can't blame you for our dad's death anymore."

"At least the one who did kill him is dead," Blabberwort pointed out.

Burly smiled slowly, showing all his jagged, crooked teeth. "That's right. Guess we should be thanking you, little witch...er, Lady Virginia." He scrunched up his face grotesquely. "Force of habit...but don't think of asking for any favors now, you hear?" Then he actually winked at her.

Virginia managed a tentative smile and then slowly backed away, waving cheerfully. When she judged she was far enough away, she turned around and hurried off. As she went she could hear the three Trolls arguing vigorously behind her.

"They're mine!" Bluebell growled. "See, they're just my size!"

"You blockhead!" Burly snarled. There came the sound of a massive fist connecting with the solid bone of a Troll cranium. "They're magic, they fit everybody!"

"She gave them to me," Blabberwort sniffed.

"But _I'm_ the Troll King!"

A fierce brawl ensued.

Giggling, Virginia headed back toward the dais to see how the others were doing. She saw that the doctor was still crouched intently over Carmine, from time to time taking another instrument, a cotton swab, or a bit of sparkling powder from his pouch, while Wendell and Cinderella watched over his shoulder. She wondered why they hadn't moved the queen to a more sanitary place, then answered her own question—they probably hadn't wanted to jostle her and aggravate the wound. When she was stabilized, they'd take her to a guest room.

She was about to go back and apologize to Wolf and her father when that weird queasy feeling came over her again. She frowned, holding her stomach. It came again, stronger. Then again, and this time there was a sharp stabbing pain with it that made her cry out.

Before she could call for help, she heard a strange sound. It was the sound of galloping hooves, but it bore with it the sound of breaking glass, only more so. It was as if there was a tinkling, shattering wave of breaking glass coming towards her on horseback. It grew louder and louder, shook her, and then enveloped her.

The pain became suddenly excruciating, and she screamed as she bent over double and nearly fell to her knees in the icy slush. She heard pounding feet, then hands were supporting her, helping her up as Tony and Wolf were there, attentive and protective.

"Sweetheart?" Wolf whined. "Are you all right? What's wrong, my creamy love?"

"Wolf...I..."

Once more the pain flared, so intense she nearly blacked out, and then she felt wet. Staring down, she saw the crotch of her jeans was soaked with a spreading stain. "My water just broke..." she whispered.

Tony stared at her with bulging eyes. _"What?"_ But she ignored him as, with a long, agonized scream, she did fall to her knees, held up only by Wolf. She was having the baby.

* * *

It didn't take long, even with Wolf and Tony arguing over what to do, to get Virginia situated on the far side of the dais in the shelter of the fallen throne, safe from prying eyes and granting them much-needed privacy. But from there all devolved into confusion.

Virginia half-sat against the throne, gritting her teeth and moaning as she listened to her father and her mate panic and rush madly about.

"What do you mean, you can't help?" Tony was shouting at the doctor. "My daughter's giving birth, for God's sake!"

"I cannot abandon Her Majesty, Lord Lewis," the physician snapped irritably over his shoulder. "Her condition is much more serious than Lady Virginia's!"

"Oh cripes oh cripes oh cripes," Wolf whimpered piteously, hovering over her like an errant cloud. "I don't know what to do, I can't do anything, why didn't I pay attention to Aunt Celia when I was a cub, oh I'm such a useless worthless wolf ohhhhhhhhh—" His ramblings dissolved into a howl.

Tony was back in moments, his eyes wide and his tongue licking at dry lips as he ran his hand through his thinning hair. "Ummmm...oh God...I guess I could do it, but I was only there the one time, the doctors did it all, and you're my _daughter..." _

"Well _some_body do _some_thing!" Virginia screamed.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Someone shoved her father aside and then Cinderella was there, hiking up her periwinkle skirts and carefully kneeling. "If someone would kindly assist me, I will take over from here."

Wolf left off his muttering to stare in relief and joy at the queen of the First Kingdom, but Tony was staring at her incredulously. "Pardon me, Cinderella, but do you even know what you're doing?"

The withering look the old woman gave her father would have melted stainless steel. "In case you've forgotten, I was not always a queen. When I was a scullery maid in my stepmother's manor, I was often called upon to deliver calves and foals, and whenever the midwife was away or occupied in the local village, I had to attend to expectant mothers as well. Not to mention I have been a mother myself more times than I can count, so I certainly know the process much better than you! Now, if you are not planning on helping, you are a hindrance and I would ask you to remove yourself from my presence. Which is it going to be?"

Without a word, a subdued Tony knelt down beside Cinderella, looking decidedly sheepish.

As Wolf came to Virginia's other side and took her hand, the aged monarch managed to disrobe her lower half and prop her legs into the birthing position. By that time the pain was even more gut-wrenching, and she couldn't tell if her abdomen was turning inside out or her pelvis was on the verge of snapping apart. She tried to breathe the way her Lamaze coach had instructed her, but her concentration kept being broken by the ridiculous image of Wolf huffing and puffing along with her as if he were trying to blow down the Three Little Pigs' houses. She'd laughed until her sides hurt during her classes whenever that had happened, but now she could barely squeeze out a giggle.

Gripping Wolf's hand, she glared up at him through the fringe of her bangs. "Is it like this...for all wolf-mothers...or is this just my bad luck? Tell me...tell me!"

He whimpered and looked away evasively. "I...I don't really know, dumpling. I've never been a father before either."

Virginia snarled. "I'm going to kill you for this!" She knew she was acting like every cliché mother in the history of motherhood, but she couldn't help it, it _hurt!_

Another wave of agony spasmed through her and she tried to draw her legs up against her stomach, but Cinderella and Tony had her ankles locked firmly in place, and all she could do was scream and pant and jerk about. Then a bright white light filled her vision, and for a moment she was afraid she had been overcome by the pain and blacked out. But when the light cleared, everything was the same as before...except... Her jaw dropped. There, beyond and between her two attendants, was her mother!

Christine's expression was at once grave and tender, and one hand was extended, draped in the sleeve of the same green velvet riding cloak as before, fingers spread. Virginia opened her mouth to cry out, but her mother shook her head and put a finger to her lips. "No, Virginia...no one else can see me but you. Snow White sent me this time, and I must say she is most put out with you for breaking a magic mirror, it was quite irresponsible to endanger your life and your baby's!

"Still, she is forgiving of a great heroine, and has granted me the power to end your bad luck now, before it strikes again with far more malevolence." A soft golden nimbus surrounded her auburn hair, and then Virginia's shoulders felt lighter, as if a burden had been lifted from them. She couldn't believe this...she knew sometimes a woman giving birth might have hallucinations, but this!

Smiling gently, her mother reached out and placed her hand on Virginia's abdomen. "And this is my gift to you...a little magic to ease the pain." A warm, lazy lassitude washed over her body, dulling the pain to a barely discernible ache, and she gazed up in shock at Christine. "It is the least I can do, my daughter. Now bear down with the contractions, and be the greatest mother you can be." A shimmer passed through the air, and then the spirit faded away.

Stunned, Virginia lay there slackly for what felt like hours but was only a few seconds as she realized it had been real...her mother truly had come to her, there could be no denying the change in her body. It was as if she had been injected with a powerful anesthetic.

Then she felt her muscles tense of their own accord, heard her father and Cinderella urging her to push, and knew what she had to do. As tears came to her eyes and her heart beat with happiness and love, she clung to the vision she had seen, the visitation she had received and all its portents. Then she prepared to give it her all.

Time passed—how much Virginia didn't know, it felt like days but could not have been more than an hour or two. She didn't know if it was all happening so fast because of the bad luck, or because the baby was part wolf, and she didn't care, because as far as she was concerned, the faster the better. Her hair dripped with sweat and her body became soaked with it as she valiantly strove to follow Cinderella's terse and strict instructions. She could feel Wolf gripping her free hand, could see Tony's flushed and tense face.

At last another contraction came, more powerful than all the others, so strong it overrode the magic and filled her with pain, as if she were tearing open. Dimly she could hear Tony's excited voice, then Cinderella's calm one. "One more push, Lady Virginia, I can see the head."

Nodding weakly, she gathered all her will and bore down one last time, straining and pushing until, with a shriek, she felt the pain subside. There was a long, expectant pause, and then came a sound she thought was more beautiful than any she had ever heard—a baby's squalling cry. Laughing and crying simultaneously, she fell back against the throne and closed her eyes, relaxing, panting, listening to that most joyous of noises.

When she opened her eyes again, Wolf was there, his face aglow with excitement, awe, and pride, and he was holding something small and squirming wrapped in her sweater. "Oh, Virginia...Virginia...look at our son! Isn't he the most handsome chap you've ever seen?"

She looked into the bundle, and it was like time had stopped as she drank in every feature, the tiny hands, the soft pink skin, the precious mouth parted to still emit that wholesome cry, the dark green eyes gazing up boldly and roguishly, the thick curl of dark brown hair plastered down to his head...and sticking out of the sweater, an adorable tail of the same color, only a few inches long but flicking and twitching as madly as his father's during the full moon.

Looking up from Tony's equally proud countenance to Cinderella's slow, warm smile, Virginia at last met Wolf's gaze, which was both expectant and a trifle worried, as if he actually thought she could be displeased with the baby. Then she chuckled softly. "He most certainly is...and it sounds like he's already got you wrapped around his pinky, the little con artist...he's his father's son all right." She smirked. "A little furry chap, only much smaller."

At that moment the doctor finally appeared to check on her, only to find his work done for him. After tying off and cutting the cord, he returned the baby and for the first time, Virginia was able to hold her child. As she rocked the infant tenderly in her arms, she caught the doctor's attention. "How is Carmine?"

"It was touch-and-go for a while there," he admitted candidly. "But she will live. She has a strong will, you know."

"Oh yes, believe me I know."

A smile appeared on the doctor's craggy face as he watched her, then he turned to Wolf. "And now for you, let's have a look at those wounds..."

Wolf protested, of course, not wanting to leave his family, but Virginia gave him a long, hard stare, and he consented with the look of a dog that had tucked its tail between its legs. It took a short while to peel off the blood-soaked greatcoat and unbutton his shirt, and the wounds uncovered made Virginia want to retch. She had to avert her eyes, but the doctor set at once to cleaning and stitching them, and Wolf nerved himself and took it bravely.

After that everything seemed like a blur to Virginia. She was vaguely aware of Daviander melting the last of the courtiers and then silently gliding out of the windows to rest in the gardens, of the doors to the throne room opening and armed guards entering to investigate after their duty to the king had overcome their fear of the raging battle. But none of it seemed to matter to her, she only had eyes for her mate and her cub.

All of her fears were gone now. To be sure, she still knew a long road lay ahead raising her family, and that parenting would be no easy task. But as she gazed at her son and rocked him in her arms, she knew she would face whatever lay ahead with strength and determination. This was her child, and she would be what her mother could not. The past was erased, no longer relevant, and all she foresaw was days of bliss, of love, of peace.

She had certainly earned it. They all had.

Eventually, though, she grew tired of just lying about and wanted to rise. There was something she had to do, a desire that had come to her unexpectedly as she played idly with her son's tail and that grew stronger with every moment. But while she had been cleaned up and the chancellor had given her his jacket to preserve her modesty, she was still very weak.

She tried to get up on her own, but collapsed almost at once. Tony caught sight of her from where he was talking firmly and directly to the castle matron regarding his grandson receiving the utmost care and rushed to her side. "Virginia! What do you think you're doing, you just had a baby!"

"I...I need to get up, I need to show him to everyone," she said as levelly as she could manage.

He glared at her in his stern father expression. "Virginia, as your father I order you to stay put."

She glared right back. "Take. Me. Over. There. _Now,_ Dad."

At that point Tony wisely chose not to argue anymore and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, helping her up.

Together they circled the dais and came to where Wendell was watching over Carmine's prone form until the servants came to carry her to her chamber. As they approached, Virginia saw someone else was with Red Riding Hood as well, someone she was very glad to see alive and well. "Lord Rupert!"

The master of protocol and etiquette rose, turning with a beaming expression on his face. "Lady Virginia! Oh, how good it is to see you again! And how breathtakingly magnificent your victory was! Carmine was just returning my ring to me and telling me all about your adventures..." He broke off as he saw the baby in her arms, and somehow his smile became even more radiant and gleaming.

"And what a darling baby! Oh, I've never seen a baby as handsome and sweet, as cuddly and warm, no I haven't, oh no I haven't..." He degenerated at once into baby talk as he began to tickle and fondle the cub, who on his part seemed most intrigued and amused by the silly lord. He began nibbling on Rupert's fingers, who only mildly protested.

Managing to tear away from Rupert after several minutes of this, Virginia crossed to Wendell, who smiled fondly at her and offered his own congratulations. But it was to Red that she gave the most attention. The queen still lay flat on her back to keep her stitches from opening, but her face was no longer quite so pale, and her expression was one Virginia had never seen before...calm, content.

Carmine gazed up as, with Tony's help, she knelt down beside her. "Lady Virginia...it seems I was premature in my pronouncements. So sorry to get your hopes up."

Virginia sighed; this self-loathing and melancholy were fast becoming as annoying as the hatred and prejudice that had preceded them. "Your Majesty...I'm glad you're all right."

The monarch blinked. Then, seeming unable to reconcile this statement to herself, she instead flicked her eyes to the sweater-bundle and smiled almost shyly. "I hear you yourself also had a medical emergency. May I see...?"

"Yes, of course. That's why I came over here." Slowly she held out her baby, folding back the sweater to reveal him.

For a long time Carmine stared at her grand-nephew, and he stared back at her, and something unspoken seemed to pass between them. The moment was electric, and as Virginia watched she was amazed by the surge of emotions on the other woman's face—gentleness, love, amusement, and as she fingered his brush of a tail, awe.

This only confirmed what Virginia had suspected all along, that Carmine had never seen a wolf cub before of any percentage. In her prejudice she had never allowed herself to view a "mongrel"...but now, as the queen of the Second Kingdom gazed at the baby, Virginia could tell she saw no mongrel, and the discovery had altered events once again. A quantum leap had occurred, and now nothing would ever be the same.

"What is his name?" Red Riding Hood breathed, running a finger through the baby's hair as if he were a fragile work of art in danger of breaking.

Virginia paused, and then she slowly smiled. She glanced once at Wolf, who was still being tended by the doctor but who, as always, was looking only at her. They had talked for many hours in the months since returning to New York, consulting baby name books galore, but in the end the choice had been easy and fitting, and had been decided long ago.

"Warren," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "His name is Warren."


	22. Twentyone: Reconciliations

**Twenty-one**: Reconciliations

Nerving himself, Tony vacillated before the large oak door, smoothing out his flannel shirt and rearranging his hair before he lifted his fist and knocked briskly and confidently.

"Come in!" His daughter's voice sounded a little tired, but cheerful and welcoming.

Relief flooded through him, he hadn't woken her. Before he could change his mind, he turned the oversized brass knob and swung the door wide, stepping into the room beyond. It was long and broad, far too large for a single occupant, but he had gradually become used to the opulence and overdone architecture of Wendell's castle. The chamber was filled with morning light, pouring and streaming in through the open doors to the balcony so that the gauzy lace curtains, which danced and twirled in the breeze, shimmered and undulated lambently, as if they were composed of light.

The walls were cut blue velvet to match the carpeting, the sconces and chandeliers were of gold, the dresser and wardrobe and vanity were of carved mahogany. And everywhere he looked there were flowers, lilies and violets and gardenias and roses and daffodils, hundreds of them set upon every available inch of space, perfuming the air with a heady mix of fragrances, so palpable he had to step back a pace and breathe shallowly to acclimatize himself to it. Apparently all the well-wishers in the Kingdoms had been busy the last two days.

At the far end of the room stood a vast Colonial-style bed with silken sheets and a cerulean bedspread thrown back. Sitting at the head, propped up by a mountain of pillows, was Virginia, cradling Warren in one arm as she gazed down at him lovingly. Her other hand idly stroked the golden head of Prince, who lay snuggled beside her on the mattress, his chin resting comfortably on her stomach. Soft sounds of doggy contentment could be heard from time to time.

The scene was so tranquil and wonderful that for a long time Tony didn't want to disturb it, he only stood there and drank it in. He smiled fondly, not only at his daughter and grandson but at Prince. The once-magical dog had been a firm companion and friend for him in the months since Virginia and Wolf had returned to New York, something he had very much needed after being separated from his daughter for the first time in fourteen years. Sometimes he would go on hunting parties with Wendell, and of course he had his special kennel to sleep in, but the rest of the time the golden retriever could invariably be found with Tony.

The Royal Inventor had required more than the company of his numerous assistants and the Dwarves who helped manufacture the plastic for the bouncy castles, and Prince fit the bill well. He was a very intelligent dog, Tony learned, probably a holdover from his time as a human, and sometimes he would catch the dog looking at him with a penetrating glance that seemed to see right into his heart. It was at those times he loved the dog the most and would lavish attention on him. He was very grateful Prince had been in his kennel for the last two weeks and had not been subjected to the horrible influence of the Ice Queen.

"Well, Dad?" Virginia asked with a wry grin, interrupting his thoughts. "Are you just going to stand there and look at us, or are you coming in?"

Embarrassed, Tony softly shut the door and crossed to the bed. As he drew closer, he realized she wasn't just holding Warren, she was nursing him, and he quickly averted his eyes from her open nightgown. "Um...um, hi, Virginia."

She chuckled and carefully tucked the chiffon back into place, concealing her bosom even as she continued her motherly task. "Sit down, Dad, you look like you're ready to take off. You've been hanging around Wolf too much."

He complied wordlessly, settling into place right beside his daughter. He tried to calm himself by stroking Prince, who looked up at him with an expression of adoration. Her mentioning Wolf reminded him why he had come here, and why he was so nervous. Ever since Virginia had told him she was pregnant, he had decided her marrying Wolf was pretty much a foregone conclusion, despite all her protests to the contrary. He had been very troubled by this for a long time, but had finally come to terms with it.

After all, despite all the dangers and worries and wild adventures that had beset them ever since they met Wolf, he had proven himself again and again. Tony had forgiven him for the dragon dung bean—it had enabled them to talk to Wendell, after all, and the way the wishes had spun out of control was all Tony's fault, he privately admitted. And all throughout the rest of the quest he had been an invaluable source of information, a knowledgeable guide, a good man to have in a fight, and—however much he hated to say it—a devoted and loving protector of Virginia. Even the fact he had seemingly betrayed them to the Queen...to Christine...was forgotten once the truth was revealed, even though Tony had wanted to break Wolf's jaw at the time.

No, what worried him wasn't Wolf himself. It was what marrying him would mean for Virginia, and what the motivation was behind it all. Before being taken to her room to rest, his daughter had informed him she intended to have the wedding as soon as all of them were healed and prepared for the ceremony. It had been quite a shock to Tony, especially right after all the harrowing things he had witnessed while frozen in the throne room.

What with the rampant emotions and confusion in the wake of the Ice Queen's exile and the birth, he had been certain Virginia was acting on impulse and told her so, saying she should wait a while before making such a decision. But she had been adamant, revealing she had already made this decision some time ago during the quest to find the dragon, so he had to drop that objection.

He wanted her to be happy. He truly did. And he knew Wolf made her happy. But he was so extremely worried that this wasn't what she wanted, that she was only doing it to make Wolf happy and because of the baby. The recent birth seemed to make that even more obvious. He knew Wendell had been pressuring her to get married because of the stigma of the unwed mother, which remained a force to be reckoned with in the Nine Kingdoms.

And so he was afraid Virginia was doing the right thing, but for the wrong reasons. He knew what that led to.

"So," he said at last, breaking the long silence.

"Yeah, Dad?" Virginia looked at him with a mixture of amusement and wariness.

He hated this awkwardness between them. For so long, for all her adult life, they had always been able to be honest with each other. He knew now they had not truly been connected, or respected each other, or understood each other. But at least they had been able to talk without all these annoying pauses.

"Are you all right?" Tony asked, unable to think of anything else to say.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Now how many times have you asked me that in the last two days?"

Tony rubbed uneasily at the back of his neck. "Yeah, I know...but, honey, I worry about you all the time, you know. You've been through a lot, I don't want you to do too much too soon."

Virginia gave him a level stare, but then she sighed and smiled. "Dad. I'm twenty-two years old. I think I can take care of myself now. And I have Wolf with me night and day. He'd be with me right now if he weren't getting his stitches checked and talking to Lord Rupert about the wedding. I know you want to take care of me, and it's really sweet, but you have to let me grow up sometime." Her tone was earnest and tender.

He winced slightly. She'd certainly pegged him to the mark. She would always be his little girl, no matter how old she was, and it was very hard for him to break old habits. Still, there was more to this than that, and he knew the time had come to tell her. "Yeah...about the wedding..." he ventured, uncertain of her reaction.

"Yes...?" Virginia sounded tense, as if she were torn between anger and discouragement.

"I...it's just, Virginia...I want to make sure this is what you really want," he blurted out. "I know Wendell and Wolf have been very insistent, and you just had a baby so you'll be very emotional, and...and, I just remember what it was like for me and your mother. I forced her to have you, and it ruined our marriage and her mind. I don't want you to end up like Christine. If you get married just because others tell you to, or for Warren's sake, and you become bitter and resentful because of it...if you've inherited her problems, then...then I'll never forgive myself."

For a long time she simply stared at him, fury and pain and worry and distress darting about on her face. Finally her expression settled into understanding and sadness. Even so, when she spoke quietly, he was afraid it was not because she held no anger toward him but because she didn't want to wake up Warren, who was blissfully asleep in her arms after finishing his warm meal.

"Oh, Dad...you don't know how many times I've worried about the exact same things. We can't know what's going to come unless we use a magic mirror or something, and I don't think we want to do that. But...I do know this, and you have to believe me. I'm not marrying Wolf for the baby, or because I'm being pressured into it. I love him, Dad, I love him so much that I can't stand to be without him. He makes me happy, Dad. That's why I want to marry him." She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it firmly, reassuringly.

Slowly Tony relaxed, let the tension out of his shoulders, and sighed in relief. He'd been carrying those worries what felt like a very long time, and to have them released now...it felt like when Christine agreed to marry him, it was so uplifting and wonderful. Smiling, he squeezed her hand back. "Well then if it makes you happy, honey, I'm all for it. Nothing would make me happier than leading you down that aisle."

The tears in Virginia's eyes shone like tiny crystals. "Thank you, Daddy...thank you."

Prince whined at that moment, as if feeling left out, and Tony scratched behind his ears, making the dog whimper joyfully. When he looked up again, his daughter was watching him with a strange look in her eyes—as if she wanted to tell him something, but was afraid to. Whatever it was, he wasn't going to let it stay blocked up like his concerns had been.

"Something on your mind, Virginia?"

After several minutes she nodded and looked away, gazing out the window. "A lot of things happened to Wolf and me when we went west. Some good, some bad. And one of them involved you, in a way. We...we ended up in this magic maze...and while we were there we all ran into spirits from our past." She paused significantly. "I talked to Mom. And she told me everything that happened."

Tony froze, his hand dropping limply on Prince's neck. He had not expected this, not at all. It made him feel cold inside, and yet he was sweating too. The past was one thing he had not wanted to revisit. Unfortunately, coming to the Kingdoms had made that inevitable, it turned out, but once Christine had died he had thought that part of their lives was over now, that they could move on and think of happier times. He didn't want to remember all of his failures, his awful mistakes that had destroyed everything. He didn't want to think of what Christine had once been, and what she had become.

Seeing her again in the mirror alcove, and having her not even recognize him, as if all they had shared together had meant nothing, had broken his heart more than Virginia would ever know. Yet somehow it had seemed appropriate, a logical end to their strained and tortured relationship, the nadir of what had once been something so beautiful, like a fairy tale. She had left him, left their love, tried to kill their daughter—why not forget him entirely?

All of this ran through his mind, drawing down to one fixed point. Whatever Christine had said, he did not want to hear it. He was afraid to, he was certain it would be what he had told himself all these years—that she hated him, that she had never loved him to begin with and he was only a pawn in her society games, that once he'd lost his wealth he'd been of no use to her anymore. And worst of all, that he was to blame, he was the one who had caused all their pain and suffering.

Yet somehow he was compelled to ask as well. He couldn't not know.

"I see," he said slowly, surprised at how calm and collected he sounded. "And what did she have to say?"

The room was utterly silent except for the incongruous chirping of birds outside the casement and the occasional grunt from Prince as he shifted positions. When he looked up, Virginia's eyes bored into his, so overflowing with sympathy and love he blinked in shock. She'd never looked at him that way before, not in years. "Dad...she said a lot of things. Some made sense, some didn't...but the most important thing she said was this. She wanted me to give you a message, about you and your marriage."

He braced himself, closing his eyes as if that could ward away the words he knew were coming.

"She wanted me to tell you, Dad, that it wasn't your fault."

Tony's eyes popped open in disbelief.

Virginia went on, her voice firm and resolute, yet soft and tender as well. "She said that you shouldn't blame yourself anymore for what happened...that it was her fault, that she was too weak and insecure. If it hadn't been one thing to break her, it would have been another. And...she said that she loved you, and always will." Her voice broke. "That she was sorry...and that if she could change things she would. She said she will always remember what she had with us..." Unable to continue, Virginia began to cry.

Instinctively he slid closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She set Warren down gently against Prince's side and then hugged him back, and at once it was like a floodgate had been broken, and he was crying too, burying his face in her shoulder as he sobbed, shaking with his grief.

He didn't know how much time passed, and he didn't care. All he knew was that he'd been wrong...Christine didn't hate him, she'd forgiven him, she'd released him! His tears were ones of sorrow but also happiness, understanding, and truth. It was over. He could finally let go, he could forgive himself...he hadn't failed, he could still do things right this time...

Eventually his emotions ran their course and no more tears would come. Strangely he wasn't embarrassed by his display, he felt cleansed and more alive than he had in a long time. He sat back and looked deeply into his daughter's eyes and was proud of what he found there. Somehow, through everything, he'd managed to raise a daughter who was so strong, so real, so amazing. He didn't know how much she had gotten from him, but he hoped at least a small amount of her strength was his. It would make everything worth it.

Sighing, he hugged her again and kissed her cheek, then leaned back against the headboard. As she leaned against his side and rested her head on his chest, he stroked her cheek gently. After a long while, he spoke very softly. "It's strange, isn't it? We all were hurt so much by it...but if she hadn't come here, we'd never have understood each other, would we? Or found a way to be happy...or helped so many people."

She nodded into his chest but said nothing, and he knew why. Nothing needed to be said. This moment didn't need to be disturbed. But he did say one thing more. "Thank you, Virginia. I...I really needed to hear that."

"I know. I've always known." She smiled winsomely and tweaked his nose.

Again silence descended, and this time Tony was content to leave it unbroken. But after a long time, Virginia sat up and looked at him curiously. "So...um, how is everyone else?"

He recognized what she was doing, changing the subject to get his mind off of what had passed between them. Like him, she was still adept at hiding her feelings and deflecting attention from them. But he went along with her, since he didn't feel like dwelling on the past anymore. "Oh, they're just fine. Wendell's right back at work on all the kingly stuff, there's a lot to catch up on, you know. Lord Rupert's his usual self—he's going nuts over your wedding." He chuckled. "And Red Riding Hood is healing well, you'd think that the Royal Physician had an entire ER trauma team in his medical bag..."

Shaking his head in disbelief, Tony trailed off, contemplating the weird link his daughter and Wolf seemed to have with Carmine. If the old fairy tale, and the political situation he'd heard described in Wendell's council meetings, were any indication, the queen of the Second Kingdom should be the last person a wolf would be concerned over, and Virginia would be fiercely protective of Wolf's rights. Yet they all seemed to be quite close, as if they had been through a lot together that had changed matters. There was a story behind that, he knew, but no one, especially his daughter, had seen fit to tell him.

Nor did she seem inclined to do so now. Instead Virginia was staring out the window again, an introspective and distant look on her face. "And the Last Dragon?"

Tony frowned. Now there was another kettle of fish altogether. He did not trust that beast one bit. He'd seen the dragon enter into combat with the Ice Queen, of course, and he had been the one to free everyone from the ice. But beyond that he was not certain how far the animal could be trusted. He didn't know what Virginia had said to get the dragon to help, but there was no guarantee any deal was still in effect, and who knew what she had promised him.

"He's outside somewhere, I suppose," he answered finally, distastefully. "Doing whatever dragons do. He's asked about you, even poked his head in the window a few times, I think, but your maid fainted and the castle steward ordered him out." He sat up and looked at her candidly. "I don't know why he's still hanging around, he doesn't belong here, he belongs in some cave, away from civilization where he can't hurt anybody. And with all those 'thees' and 'thous' I can't understand a thing he says."

He was looking away, so the punch that caught him in the shoulder was unexpected. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Dad, how can you still be such an _idiot_?" Virginia's cheeks were flaming, her fists were clenched, and he cringed in case she planned to hit him again. "He's not a monster or a beast, he's as human as you or me! He has a heart, he has feelings, and he's suffered so much...how dare you..." She shuddered with her rage.

"You want him to go live in a cave? That's where he's been for over a century! I think it's high time he get out of there and actually live again! He belongs wherever we accept him..._he's_ the one who's been hurt, and he's a hell of a lot more civilized and intelligent than some people I can name." Crossing her arms vigorously, she ground her teeth. "You have no idea...you don't understand at all..."

Tony was fairly shocked by her tirade, and held up his hands placatingly. "All right, all right, I'm sorry! Jeez, I didn't know, cut me some slack..."

"You're right, you didn't know," she snapped. "He's the one who saved us all, you know, without him you'd still be stuck in the ice. He deserves our gratitude, not our prejudice."

Crestfallen, Tony looked away. He'd never thought of himself as prejudiced before. Oh, back in New York he'd had a few run-ins with blacks or Hispanics and there had been some misunderstandings, but he'd always told himself he respected and understood everyone. He'd even had ethnic friends down at Joey's, the old watering hole he used to go to for a beer after work. But this was different, for God's sake it was a _dragon_ they were talking about!

He stopped himself. Creatures here were no different than people, he'd learned that right away. Whether you were a goblin or a Troll, everyone received pretty much the same treatment, both the bad and the good. And prejudice was what lay behind all the trouble with the wolves. He had no right to be judging, or perpetuating another hateful rivalry in the Kingdoms, no matter how ugly the dragon was.

Sighing, he looked back at Virginia. She had cooled down some and was no longer so quivering with fury, although she was still glaring at him. "I'm sorry, honey...I really am, I didn't think...that's the problem I guess. Maybe...maybe you should take me to meet him, huh? So I can find out what he's really like?" He smiled tentatively.

Very slowly, she relented, either because of his offer or because of the pleading, intensely apologetic look he gave her. Shaking her head, she smiled back and took his hand again. "I just don't know what to do with you sometimes," she commented. "One minute you do something so stupid, the next you do something sensitive. All right, Dad. I'll take you to meet him as soon as the doctor says I can get out of bed. If you let yourself, I think you'll like him."

He didn't know if he'd go that far, but he promised himself he would try as hard as possible, for Virginia's sake. "We'll see, honey. We'll see."

For a while after that he busied himself with studying his grandson, then holding him as he leaned down to kiss the infant on the forehead. He couldn't wait until the boy was awake so he could play with him, he'd always wanted to be a grandfather. And the one thing he had wondered about during the months of pregnancy, whether the child would have a tail, was no longer an issue anymore. Now that he saw it, it seemed completely natural, and incredibly cute.

Eventually Tony regarded his daughter again, thinking he should make some other concession in the matter of the dragon. Clearing his throat, he said, "Well...um, if I'm going to get to know this dragon, I think I should know as much as I can about him. Where did you find him, how did you meet him? And how'd you know where to look, anyway?" That point had been puzzling him for quite a while.

Virginia bit her lip and glanced down at her hands, which were clasped tightly in front of her. Then she looked up and shrugged. "That's...a long story. But I guess we have time. Still..." She paused, and then a small smirk appeared on her lips. "Before I tell you that, there's something else you should know."

"Oh?" He rocked Warren gently back and forth, smiling down at him and not really paying attention. "What's that?"

A mischievous twinkle glinted in her eyes. "Well, Dad...remember all those silly stories Great-Grandpa Lewis used to tell about Great-Grandma? Turns out they weren't stories after all..."

* * *

King Wendell waited until the study door had closed behind Lord Rupert before he threw himself in an ignominious heap in his chair. He wished he could lock the door behind him, not only to keep him away but to keep everyone away. Somehow, in the little over two weeks since the Ice Queen had appeared in his throne room and cast her spell, the duties of the throne had multiplied a hundredfold, it seemed. And he was not ready to face it.

The wedding plan Lord Rupert had just presented to him, and the requests he had made for cooks, couturiers, decorators, designers, tailors, milliners, and messengers—not to mention the mounds of bunting and flowers and the cakes, meats, nuts, beverages, and other foods that overflowed the menu—seemed to exemplify the workload that lay ahead of the young king.

The revelation that Wolf was a prince of the House of Red and that Virginia was a princess of the House of Charming had radically altered the wedding, turning it into the greatest extravaganza of the century, and Rupert was in his element, wildly orchestrating it all. It was overwhelming to Wendell; he could only imagine how it would affect his stepsister. And cousin, he reminded himself.

As if that was not enough, the piles of parchment and scrolls completely covering his desk only increased the pressure. There was so much to do he had lost track. Somewhere amongst the mess were Virginia's wedding invitations. There was a proclamation establishing a wolf-hold in the Fourth Kingdom where the wolves could take refuge during the full moon, for their own safety as well as his people's. Others would be built in the following months.

There was also an order for more supplies of stone and lumber in the reconstruction of Beantown, a request for more guards to increase security both at the palace and at the Snow White Memorial Prison, and a note from the Viscount Lansky's widow asking permission to bring her son to court so he could meet the king he would serve when he was old enough to take the place of his heroic father, who had tragically sacrificed himself for Wendell's sake. The sons of Wilfred Peep wanted a pardon for their father—had that been the petition he'd agreed to?—and the people of Kissing Town wished to erect a monument to the Four Who Saved the Nine Kingdoms, including pieces of the broken Traveling mirror and its frame.

In addition he had three important letters to write. The first would be relatively easy, a cordial congratulation to King Arundel and Queen Rapunzel of the Sixth Kingdom, re-opening relations after the ending of the curse by Virginia and her companions. The second would be much more difficult, a missive to Duke Gerome of the Eighth Kingdom, informing him of the death of his sister Griselda and that, pending the decision of the Council of the Nine Kingdoms, he would most likely be crowned king and his son Gunnar would be the Crown Prince.

Gerome was a good man, as was his son, and neither of them had condoned the Ice Queen's icy conquest. They were also unlikely to hold a grudge, since they had been well aware it might take strong measures to save the Kingdoms from her evil sorcery. But she had been family, and they had loved her despite her frigid heart, so Wendell knew he had to word his letter carefully.

The hardest letter of all would be to the Royal Council of Advisors of the Second Kingdom, explaining that, though wounded, their queen was well on her way to recovery and would return home as soon as she had attended a state function. He would not dare to mention what that function was, both because many of them still harbored hatred toward Wolf and because the kidnapping of Carmine by Virginia and Wolf created a tangled quandary with great political ramifications.

Of course since they were both heroes of the land, twice over, and they themselves had been imprisoned first, the council would probably not wish to make an issue of their crimes. And since Carmine seemed to have mellowed considerably toward her captors during the journey—how Virginia had managed that, Wendell had no idea—she herself would likely grant clemency upon her return to Incarnadine. Still, there were many ways it could go wrong, and the king did not relish this task at all.

Relish. That reminded him of the final blow, the icing on the cake. Although the return of their magic shoes had mollified the three Trolls, the children of Relish had insisted upon an audience with him today, and he was afraid they would demand some form of reparation from him or Virginia for their father's death. He had posted extra sentries outside the study in case the Trolls grew violent, which further added to the tension.

As if his thoughts had summoned them, there came a heavy knock on the door. He heard the sound of a deep, gravelly voice demanding entry, and then the door opened. "King Burly, Princess Blabberwort, and Prince Bluebell," the sentry said with some distaste and a warning glance.

Wendell rose at once to his feet, straightening his royal uniform jacket and presenting a firm, imperious visage. Clasping his hands behind his back, he strode around the desk, trying not to show his trepidation as the three Trolls, two towering over him, entered the study. They looked threatening, but then they always appeared threatening. Their postures, at least, did not suggest they planned some secret attack. In fact if he had not known better, he would have sworn they looked apologetic.

"Your Majesty," Burly grated, and bowed, his steel chains and iron adornments clinking. The other Trolls bowed hurriedly as well.

"Your Majesty," Wendell replied evenly. The stench was hideous, but he managed to conceal his disgust. "What was it you wished to discuss?"

Burly looked extremely embarrassed, an expression not usually found on a Troll. "Well, first of all, I wanted to...say once again how sorry we are for helping your stepmother. It's just our kingdom's so awful, we can't help but want something better..."

"I know," he said patiently.

"...and we're extremely grateful for the pardon you gave us in your great mercy..."

"You are welcome." Would he ever get to the point?

"...but we wanted to know, was what the Lady Virginia told us true? Did your stepmother kill our dad?" Burly growled, baring his fangs in pent-up fury.

Wendell blinked. This he had not expected. He'd anticipated having to explain again and again, in soothing tones, what had happened to Relish while backing away from a swordpoint and hoping his sergeant-at-arms would come quickly enough when he called to save his life. But Virginia had apparently done most of the work for him. He silently thanked her, profusely.

"Yes, it is true." He affected an expression of deep mourning. "I questioned her servants immediately after my coronation, and there were several witnesses. He was poisoned along with twelve of his men, and then she beheaded him. He was given a proper burial in my own churchyard." Wendell did not mention this was done to combat the smell, which was even worse when Relish was dead than when alive, and to dispose of the body, not out of respect for the dead.

The fiery explosion of rage in Burly's eyes was horrifying, and for a moment Wendell saw his life pass before his eyes—all twenty-one years of pampered riches and empty vanity. He winced; he would have to remedy that and make a life worth remembering, one of virtue and wisdom...assuming he lived. But then the Troll whirled aside, pounded one meaty fist on the wall until dust and plaster fell from the ceiling, and leaned against a bookcase, head bowed.

When he turned around, Wendell was shocked to see tears in the Troll's eyes. Blabberwort and Bluebell, too, looked heartbroken and enraged as they attempted to comfort their brother without seeming to. "Suck an Elf, we were idiots," Burly declared thickly. "Dad must've been yelling at us from his grave and wanting to pound our heads together."

Confused and distressed, Wendell did not know how to react to this, so he replied in his best approximation of sympathy. "Don't feel too badly, Your Majesty, she fooled us all, every one of us. What matters is that she is dead, and you have learned the identity of his killer, so he can rest."

"Yeah..." After a long moment, Burly straightened up. "Well...I guess we've done enough, then. If you'll give us our father's body back, like the Ice Queen promised, we'll get out of here and never trouble you again. He deserves to be in the Third Kingdom, where we can perform all the sacred Troll ceremonies." He nodded solemnly.

Wendell didn't want to know what those ceremonies were, but he could see no harm in granting their request, since it would end the threat of Troll invasion that had been hanging over his head for the last eight months. "Indeed. Very well, speak to my Royal Sexton, he is in charge of the cemetery and can aid you in your task."

"Thank you, thank you very much, Your Majesty!" Blabberwort exclaimed, bobbing her head eagerly. "We won't forget this, we'll be all nicee nice now!"

"Yeah!" Bluebell chimed in. "If you ever need us, just ask and we'll be here!"

Wendell would lay a golden egg before such a day would ever come, but he privately kept that thought to himself. "Of course. Farewell!"

Taking the hint, the three Trolls bowed their way out of the study. As soon as they were gone, the golden-haired king relaxed, trembling. That had been far too close. Only luck and Virginia's intervention had saved him, but that was true over and over again. How had he allowed matters to progress to this? Running his hands through his hair, he retreated to his chair and slumped down into it, resting his forehead on his crossed forearms upon the desk.

"What's the matter, Wendell?"

He looked up to see his grandmother Cinderella standing in the doorway. "You have to ask?"

"Oh, I think you did rather well, grandson," she observed, striding into the room and closing the door behind her. Her expression was at once amused and understanding. "No one else could have handled that better. You should be proud of yourself."

"Me? Proud?" He snorted. "Hasn't that always been my problem, the fatal flaw that has twice now jeopardized my kingdom? In my arrogance I underestimated both my stepmother and the Ice Queen. I have failed dismally." He seemed to recall saying that once before, but at the time the haze of drunkenness had blotted it out.

Cinderella sighed and shook her head. "Wendell, no one is perfect, not even a king. You have done the best you could with what you had and what you knew. You have learned much in a short time, you have changed and realized your potential. Stop measuring yourself against the standard of your grandparents. Learn from your mistakes and move on! You have all the qualities you need to be a good king."

Wendell sat back in his leather chair, looking at her directly. "You mean courage, wisdom, and humility? I thought the dog had those, not me."

His grandmother paused, gazing at him penetratingly. "Is that what this is all about?" Chuckling, she sat down in the chair across from him and folded her hands in her lap. "Wendell, you may not have stood before your peers and proven your worth in a silly ceremony, but you have done something far greater. You risked your life for your subjects, for your friends, for your Kingdom. You learned you were wrong about the lower classes and adopted a more selfless attitude. You even pardoned the Trolls and understood that the Evil Queen was not in her right mind and not responsible for her actions. You are daring to stand up to centuries of tradition in pardoning the wolves. And you are well aware of your shortcomings and limitations. That, to me, is more than enough to prove your worth for the throne."

Stunned, the young king stared at Cinderella, feeling something he had never felt before. Pride in his accomplishments and in his heart, rather than in his name and his wealth. Slowly he sat up, dignified and confident, and planted his hands on the desk. He regarded his grandmother, and then he smiled. "You always know what to say, Grandmother. What would I ever do without you?"

"Luckily we'll never have to know." She winked at him, but then her expression turned solemn. "Seriously, Wendell, I shall not live forever. But I am glad to know my dear friend Snow White's kingdom will be in good hands in the years to come. I know my daughter Amelia will have a great advisor in her nephew when she assumes the throne."

Sobered by this prospect, Wendell clasped his hands and studied them for a while. Glancing at all the parchment still scattered across his desk, reminded once more of his responsibilities, he looked up at her. "You know I still must do something about the dragon. We owe him a debt that can never be repaid...especially in light of what my kingdom did to his kind."

"Yes." Cinderella nodded gravely. "And you know what it is you have to do. As for a reward, I'm sure you'll think of something." A merry smile appeared on her magenta lips. "In the meantime, perhaps I can give you an easier decision to contemplate." She reached into a blue silk handbag she carried with her and removed a folded sheet of parchment. As he glanced at it, Wendell recognized it as his own stationery.

"When the Ice Queen lured me here, she used the offering of a ball held to choose a wife for you...a ball I have been determined to cajole you into holding. It seems to me her promise should be kept. What do you say to a month after Virginia's wedding...will the seventh do? That should give all eligible maidens enough time..."

Wendell stared at her in disbelief, dejection, and resignation before groaning and collapsing back onto the desk again, his face in his hands. In a muffled voice he answered.

"Oh no...oh no...you are far worse than my stepmother, the Trolls, and the Ice Queen acting in concert. You know that, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Cinderella replied smugly. "Of course I do. Now, when was it you said you could hold the ball...?"

* * *

Until this moment, Red Riding Hood III would have sworn she could never feel nervousness, uncertainty, or indecision when it came to matters of state. But as she strode slowly down the hallway toward Virginia's chamber, she felt all three, and all three were linked inextricably with a choice she must make as queen which would ripple throughout all the Kingdoms.

It was now four days since the defeat of the Ice Queen, and most of that time Carmine had been laid up in bed, recovering from her near-fatal stab wound to the stomach. She had slept a great deal, partially due to her weakened, fragile state, partially from a desire not to remain awake. It was true that sleep brought the same dreams and nightmares as it had for the past week, yet somehow they did not seem as strident and insistent as before, as if her confrontation with Griselda had appeased the spirits of the dead wolves somewhat. In any case, the waking world offered just as much pain and distress, and choices she did not wish to face.

But eventually she had healed and regained her strength, and she could not retreat behind her eyelids anymore. And soon she had not wished to, her usual determination and iron will had reasserted themselves. Why should she hide? It would accomplish nothing, and it only made her a coward. She might have been one all her life until now, but no longer. She would be brave. She would face the truth. She would live.

Demanding to be propped up and for the stifling room to be opened to the outside world, she had declared that it was no longer a sick room, but a room for life. And as she eagerly devoured the rich, filling broths and stews her maid brought her, as she sat in the perfumed bower of her bed with the curtains tied back so that the fresh breezes from the window could bathe her face, Carmine had contemplated her change in attitude.

In her boudoir in Incarnadine and on the carriage journey to Wendell's palace, throughout the conflict with the Ice Queen, she had been fully prepared to die. In fact she had hoped she would, and the knife she had hidden concealed in her robes had been originally intended for a suicidal attack on the Witch of Winter. That was why she had willingly placed her life in danger repeatedly during the final climax of the battle, had risked the evil magic of the Lethe mirror.

After all, she had been certain the Nine Kingdoms would be better off if she were lost and forgotten too. When she had miraculously survived, she had instead hoped to succumb to her wound, yet Wendell's physician had saved her, to her extreme annoyance.

Yet now...now things were different. Despite all the odds against it, she had escaped death. And that told her, however much she might wish to deny it, that she was meant to live, that she had a greater purpose to fulfill. She could not evade it, she could not bury her head in the sand and pretend it didn't exist. She was not to be allowed to abrogate her responsibilities with the easy out of death.

Her grandmother's words in the May Queen's hedge maze still echoed in her mind, and she knew what she had to do and why. And for the first time she wanted to do it. It would be difficult, of course, but she had done many difficult things in her reign, and nothing worth doing was easy.

So, galvanized by her newfound sense of self, Carmine had sought her health and strength with a vengeance rather than merely clinging to life, and it had paid off. Now, four days later, she walked the halls of Wendell's palace with a proud carriage and unfaltering stride.

It was true that she still wore bandages around her midsection beneath the scarlet robes, and that she felt twinges of pain every now and then. But thanks to periodic bouts of walking exercises, she was nearly the woman she had been before her stabbing.

Physically, anyway. Mentally and emotionally she was quite a different woman entirely. And she found that she much preferred this woman to who she had once been. She had more respect and love for herself now than when she had been wrapped up in her ego and vanity, strangely enough.

Still, that did not assuage her fears or prevent her from endlessly debating her decisions until the arguments for and against fluttered around inside her head like magic birds trying to break free of their cages. A long road lay ahead for her. The blatant dangers of this quest might be over, and she might have taken a major step in changing her outlook toward wolves, but the more subtle and insidious dangers of prejudice and distrust remained ahead.

Her own government and subjects would work against her, and there would be a great deal of resentment, suspicion—perhaps even sedition and treason. She did not intend to back down, but that did not eliminate her worries. So much hinged on this, both sides in the conflict would be affected for generations. But she knew this was how it had to be. No matter what happened, she could not be swayed from her course. Not after all that she had seen and heard and experienced.

All that remained was to somehow convince Virginia and Wolf that this was true.

Soon enough she arrived at the doorway of Virginia's chamber and found that the door was already open. Stepping across the threshold, she knocked politely on the jamb. "Come in!" came the answering call, and hurriedly she entered before she could change her mind.

Inside, she saw a scene of domesticity that warmed her heart. At the foot of the bed, Wolf and Virginia sat on an ottoman facing the balcony doors, which were open to the evening breezes. Wolf had his bandaged arm around Virginia's shoulders, squeezing her tightly and protectively close, while she held little Warren in her arms, rocking him back and forth as she hummed a sweet lullaby. As the queen entered, the new mother looked up and smiled in astonishment and pleasure. "Carmine! It's you...I didn't know you were up and about. Please, sit down!"

Crossing to the couple, she found herself feeling like a sacrilegious intruder, the love and devotion in the room were so palpable and so clearly delineated from herself. Neither of them seemed annoyed or angered by her presence, although Wolf did look a little wary, yet she knew she did not truly belong here. At the same time it felt like a great honor to be granted acceptance. Seeing Warren only reminded her of the miracle she had witnessed and felt in the throne room...that a wolf-cub had been brought to her newly born, and instead of a monster she had seen him as the treasure he was. So much had changed in such a short time.

Finding a small armchair near the bed, she settled down in relief, a trifle winded from her long walk even now. She smiled at Virginia gratefully. "Thank you, Lady Virginia...I am nearly recovered now, but the pain comes and goes. Hopefully I will soon be fully healed, I would not care for this to remain a nagging complaint until my old age. But, it was worth it in order to bring about the Ice Queen's downfall."

Virginia's expression lost some of its cheeriness, and she glanced askance before nodding. "Yeah...we nearly lost everything, but luckily it all worked out all right."

"Luck had nothing to do with it, my dear." Carmine understood her discomfort and worked at once to soothe it. "It was destiny."

After a long moment, she looked around the room and asked tentatively, "Shall we be alone for a great while? Where is your father?"

Virginia recovered from her moroseness and chuckled softly. "He should be a while, Your Majesty. I introduced him to the Last Dragon a couple days ago, and my dad in turn introduced him to alcoholic beverages. Ever since then they've been fast friends, when they haven't been busy singing horribly off-key dragon songs."

In spite of herself, Carmine began to laugh. "I see...that is good to know. Well then...that means I can tell you what I came here to say." She paused, sobering, and then took a deep breath and began.

"I am certain Prince Colin told you what transpired, and what passed between him and me...in generalities if not in specifics." She waited for confirmation, and when Wolf nodded, she continued. "Well. Many things have changed between us...and within me. The reason I fled the Sixth Kingdom to return home was not what you thought. I was not doing so to refuse to believe your words...it was because I did believe them.

"And they filled me with horror, and dread, and pain. It was because I could not face you knowing you had been right all along. It was an attempt to hide from the truth, yes...but it was a futile one. Because thanks to you, and to Colin, I knew that I had wronged the wolves, and wronged you, and I was the evil, deplorable murderess you knew me to be..."

She trailed off, her emotions threatening to consume her as tears flowed down her cheeks. She did not attempt to stop them, nor did she wipe them away. They were a symbol of how she had changed, a sign that her heart was not cast in stone, and she welcomed them. Wolf and Virginia only stared at her in stupefaction, and she knew they doubted her, that their narrowed eyes tracked her soul and searched for ulterior motives, hardly daring to accept what she said at face value.

She did not blame them, nor did she expect them to believe her yet. So she clasped her hands and waited, waited for them to break the silence with accusations or confused questions. But they did not, and instead they formed a wordless tableau, as if enacting a scene in a play where all the actors had forgotten their lines, and in the empty void of sound she could hear, unmistakably, the voices of her victims...the wolves who still cried out for justice.

Shuddering with guilt, Carmine forced herself to say more, to expose herself to their cynosure, to explain if she could the conflicting thoughts and emotions that had guided her—or more aptly, led her astray—during the last few days and throughout all her life. Her voice was halting, uncertain, even to herself. She could not imagine how it sounded to Wolf and Virginia, who knew her only as the calm, stoic queen of the Second Kingdom.

"I...I did not come to this decision easily, it is...hard to examine yourself with honesty. It is far easier to hate than to forgive, to understand. But I could not deny it anymore. Virginia...you showed me by your tales of Wolf's bravery, and your own example in trusting him to aid you in defeating the Ice Queen, that Wolf was an honorable and loving...man. And Wolf...you not only shattered my illusions with your stories of your father...of Duncan, but you demonstrated time and again that you were no bloodthirsty monster.

"You were steadfast and true, loyal and dependable...and in Wendell's throne room I saw a side of you I had never seen before. You risked your life to save mine, simply because it was the right thing to do. You dared contend with the Ice Queen alone, fending off her knife strikes to give Virginia and me the chance to set a trap for her. You clearly had the best of intentions and a will to save the Kingdoms all along..."

Now, finally, she was interrupted, as first Wolf, then Virginia, cleared their throats and tried to speak, but she held up a hand to silence them. "Wait, let me finish. This is difficult enough as it is. I...I have been blind for so long, blind to what lay before my eyes. So many things have I seen, things that could not be explained in my narrow field of vision.

"The way you kept selflessly endangering yourself for Virginia's sake. The perilous and impossible tasks you confronted on the slender hope you would succeed. The way you kissed after the departure of the May Queen. The little things, the glances and touches and inconsequential words. The birth of your baby." She smiled down fondly at Warren. "They were all clues, they were manifestations of your love, and I could not see it. I would likely still be blind were it not for the May Queen...and my grandmother."

"Your grandmother?" Virginia burst out, stunned.

Carmine nodded slowly, even as she recognized this was where her listeners would hopefully begin to believe her. "Yes. She came to me in the hedge maze, and she told me many things. Things I did not accept or understand, things I refused to believe. At the time I only agreed to do as she asked in order to escape her horrible words, and because I wished to act for the good of my people and my realm. But now I understand everything she said was true.

"And what she said was this: she told me she had been wrong all these years, that it was her fault I hated wolves and she had come to undo her wickedness, that in her naiveté and ignorance she had maligned a noble and honorable species that did not deserve to be destroyed for the sins of a few members. That I needed to let go of my hatred because it was only crushing my spirit, shriveling my heart and robbing me of my humanity. That I could not punish Old Grey, and that I had to forgive myself for not being able to save my great-grandmother or my sister."

Wolf's breath rasped in his throat as he slowly, amazedly answered her. "Red...Red Riding Hood said all that?" Virginia took one look at his face, then set Warren down in a wicker bassinet so she could take his hand and embrace him tightly.

"Yes." Red Riding Hood found a strange kindred spirit in Wolf's eyes, as he too heard something he would never have believed possible, something that united them in common understanding as the shrouds of the past were lifted. "What she told me nearly destroyed me. For you see, if it were true, if I were wrong, then I did not deserve to live. I did not deserve forgiveness or absolution, I would never find Happy Ever After. And worse, when I died my soul would be consigned to the underworld."

Fresh tears blurred her vision as Carmine closed her eyes, trying not to imagine what torments awaited her below. She was a God-fearing woman; although the church had never been a strong part of her life, she had always believed in the Afterlife, and had striven to attain paradise. It had seemed the only thing left for her in a world where no one loved her. But she had not delved too closely into spiritual matters, lest she find what she could not accept—that she was a worthless, loathsome sinner.

The church in her Kingdom had long decried the wolves as pagans, as cannibals, as barbarian slaughterers. But she had not ever dared to apply ecclesiastical rhetoric to her speeches, to her people or even to Wolf and Virginia. She had wisely felt religious matters remained in a different sphere than politics and should not be misapplied to that arena. But in her heart she had also secretly known such an act would have condemned her soul even more...that God would not approve of her speaking for Him, claiming wolves were heathen murderers and did not deserve to live by His commandment.

Virginia, meanwhile, was watching her with a troubled, dubious, and pitying expression. "That's not true, Carmine, that's so not true. Everyone can be forgiven...anyone can change and become a better person. Of course you deserve to live...you've proven it by your actions." She remained strangely silent on the issue of souls and sins, and Red Riding Hood wondered if she did not believe in such supernatural matters.

"I hope you are right, Virginia." The queen sighed and took a handkerchief from her pocket to wipe her tears. "But there is only one way to be certain, one way to make a difference. And that is to make amends. I realized this after I left your company, when I was in Incarnadine, when I was traveling here. I realized that I had assumed my destiny was fixed, but what if it was not? Or what if my destiny were not what I had believed it to be? There was still time to repent, to change. And so I came here to defeat evil...I came here to die if it were my time. Barring that...I came here for the same reason I sit before you now."

Wolf scratched nervously at his temple and ventured to ask the obvious question. "And what reason is that?"

The time had come. She could not hide any longer. She had to face her fate, and tradition be damned by the knowledge she knew could not be denied. Sitting up straight, she said it softly, almost matter-of-factly. "To pardon you, Wolf."

Disbelief washed across his face, followed by suspicion, hope, confusion, and understanding. Slowly he rose from the ottoman and moved toward her, walking like one entranced. When he reached her side, he stopped and looked down at her as if he had never seen her before. "What?"

"To pardon you, Wolf," she repeated more firmly. What, did he wish to milk this for every drop of smug vindication it was worth? Did he still hate her so that he would rub salt in her wounds? "And not only that. I shall remove your father's name from the record books as a traitor and murderer, and your family's name shall be cleansed of all wrongdoing. In addition...I shall give you what you deserve...your royal rank."

At that Wolf tottered on his feet and collapsed, falling to his knees before her. He clutched her dress and stared up at her in shock, struck speechless. So many warring emotions filled her as she gazed down at him that she could not say what she wished to say, something personal that would reconcile them, and so instead she resorted to what she was most comfortable with, formality and protocol. His instinctive genuflection gave her the perfect opportunity.

Reaching out, she placed one hand on his head, the other on his shoulder, and spoke the solemn words that had been passed down throughout her house's sovereign reign. "I confer upon thee the rank of prince and all responsibilities and honors appertaining thereto, as is thy birthright and heritage, as should have been long ago. Thou hast a higher calling now, thou servest the people, and 'tis thy noble duty to ensure the ensanguined hue of thy House shall nevermore stain thy Kingdom's fields or thy people's hearts. Arise, Prince of the House of Red."

Wolf looked ready to faint, and Carmine was not too far from that condition herself. What she had done would cause many of her advisors to wonder if she had taken leave of her senses, if her mind had been broken by all her recent trauma, if she had been Persuaded into this rash and reckless course of action. But no, for the first time she had found her senses, healed her mind, and acted on her own free will to do what was right.

As she gazed down at Wolf, she found herself marveling at how handsome and strong his features were, how regal. Why had she never seen it before, why had she never allowed herself to see it? Had she simply been that black-hearted, or had she never truly studied Wolf's face before...afraid of what she would see?

Finally Wolf found his voice. "Oh, Your Majesty...huff-puff, I can't believe this! You have no idea what this means to me!"

"Yes, I do," she replied gently.

"I mean...I could care less if I was a prince, but you actually making me one...what this'll do for my family, for the Kingdoms, for wolves everywhere—cripes!" Wolf was actually beaming with joy, his emerald eyes sparkling with tears unshed, and she could not help but respond with a warm, enraptured smile of her own. She had done right. She could feel it.

Virginia too was amazed and grinning from ear to ear, but then slowly her smile faltered, and she eyed Carmine assessingly, worriedly. "That's wonderful, Carmine...but what about the other wolves? What are you going to do about them?"

She _would_ ask that. Yet the queen did have an answer ready, even if it was one she still feared and fretted over. As Wolf looked up at her guardedly, she sighed and placed her hands in her lap. "That...will be more difficult. Pardoning Wolf and Duncan, while unheard of, is relatively easy, as queen it is my decision and mine alone whom I shall hold accountable for treason. Wolf's offenses were only against me, not the realm...and they were warranted. And Duncan...he was blameless, a target of my hatred and jealousy. A fabricated murder charge is readily dealt with. As for Wolf's princehood, that is similarly within my province, and unassailable, for while many would take issue with his being a wolf, they cannot deny who his mother was.

"But the other wolves...there is much to consider. So many years of hatred and prejudice have passed. So many crimes have been committed, so many accusations made. It shall not be simple to expunge such a mindset. The laws will be like iron, only bending and breaking when heated by my will. The government and the people will resist for a long time. I may never succeed in erasing all the injustice I have perpetuated. Not within your lifetimes, or mine."

Slowly the meaning of this sank in, and both Virginia and Wolf looked depressed, upset, and resentful. Wolf rose to his feet and turned away, looking silently out the window, while Virginia crossed her arms and glowered. "We understand."

Carmine shook her head; she had known this would be their reaction. "No, I don't think you do. I was not saying I would fail to act. I was only preparing you for the immensity of the task. Upon my return to Incarnadine I shall set at once to altering, removing, or otherwise blunting the laws. I shall make it my life's work to end the persecution, to spare the wolves further suffering. And the first law I shall repeal will be the order that all half-wolf infants be slain at birth. I see now how great a tragedy that would be." She gazed significantly at the bassinet. "I cannot promise you a great deal, nor can I determine how long it will be before you see any appreciable changes—"

And she was cut off by a warm, firm embrace as Wolf rushed to her side, swept her out of her chair, and whirled her around the room. By the time he had set her down again, laughing exuberantly, she was quite out of breath and flustered. Before she could recover, Virginia was taking her hands and squeezing them tightly, then giving her a much more sedate hug but one no less full of emotion and meaning.

As the two of them continued celebrating, Carmine sat down again, her cheeks aglow with warmth and her heart similarly full of life. She clasped her hands, amazed anew at how wonderful this rectifying of the past felt to her. What she had always imagined would sear her heart, would bring only fury and hatred and bitterness, had done the exact opposite. It was the persecution and prejudice that had harmed her.

And now...now, as she sat in a bemused daze, all sound seemed to fade, and she could hear only one thing: peace and quiet. The voices, the pain-haunted voices of misery, the wolves crying out for justice...they had been silenced. She knew at once that she would have no more nightmares, not as long as she continued on this path to redemption.

When Wolf and Virginia had finally settled down, she caught their attention. "There is one further thing. I am certain you are aware of the Second Kingdom's uncertain future. I am unmarried and without an heir. I intend as of this moment to re-examine the offers of the various suitors I have turned away over the years so that I may find a proper husband. But, should I fail to do so and remain childless, I will, regardless, have an heir. That heir shall be you, Wolf."

Wolf fell off the ottoman.

Carmine bit her lip. This decision was the one that would send shock waves through the Kingdoms, but she had known it to be the right choice, she had thought it through from every angle. No other decision would impress upon the Kingdoms, upon her people, that wolves had exactly the same rights as humans. The moment Wolf had saved her life in the throne room, she had known he would be her heir. He had the courage, the intellect, the cunning, and the tenacity.

And while he might be thrown for a loop at the moment, she knew he would take to the position admirably. Not only would it enable him to see to the integration of wolven and human societies and the ending of the prejudicial laws, but with Virginia by his side he would be certain to make good decisions and see to it that justice was upheld for all and the Kingdom ran smoothly and peacefully. Most of the other Kingdoms would accept it, for Wolf was one of the Four Who Saved the Nine Kingdoms. The Fourth would especially be amenable because of Wolf's friendship with Wendell. It would mostly be her own subjects that might object.

"I know what you are thinking, Wolf," she said at last. "But do not worry, I am not a fool, I know that many would question your appointment, and many more might well rebel against it. But remember this: I intend to live for a very long time, and opinions can change over many years. It will be far in the future that you would ever take the throne, and between that time and this, the people of the Kingdoms will witness changes that will open their eyes, as mine have been opened. Wendell will enforce his pardon; he already has plans to safeguard his people and yours, so that his citizens will see wolves pose no danger when treated with courtesy and respect.

"I shall be working to alter the laws and re-educate the people of the Second Kingdom about wolves, slowly changing their perceptions so that the next generations will be kind instead of cruel. And during that time you will be a prince, aiding me in looking after the well-being of my kingdom. Any who object to your presence in my councils will face the headsman's block. They will learn to respect you, and when they see your decisions carried out and the good it will bring, they will accept you. I will make you baron of Red Riding Hood Forest to facilitate that acceptance."

She watched Wolf as he struggled back up onto the ottoman, and sympathized deeply with the decisions he was facing, bombarded by so many new changes and challenges all at once. But there had been no real way to break it to him gently, and the need for healing and reconciliation was far too great to delay this. He was strong; he would adapt.

Eventually he ran a shaky hand over his face and looked at her. His expression was still a trifle wild and harried, and sweat stood out on his brow, but his eyes were more calm and collected, understanding what was expected of him. "I...I don't know how to thank you. I never thought I'd say this, but I don't know how to repay you for your kindness."

Carmine was not surprised by this, although it did still bring a twinge of pain to her heart. "Please, do not feel obligated to repay me. This is my debt to fulfill, I must work all my life to earn your forgiveness, and that of your people. I do, however, have three requests to make of you in return."

Wolf frowned thoughtfully, as if even now he still thought she had some secret trick up her sleeve that would abrogate everything she had already promised. "Oh? And what are they?"

"First...I would like for you to accept this gift, and place it upon Virginia's finger when you marry her." She removed from her right hand a small, golden band surmounted by a faceted ruby and held it out to Wolf.

He took it, but looked at her in a mixture of confusion and offense. "Your Majesty, don't you think I should be the one to pick her wedding ring?"

"Wolf...it was your mother's."

He froze.

Carmine's throat fluttered as she continued, just as softly. "It was one of the many heirlooms and valuables Cerise left behind when she went to live with your father...with Duncan." It was important to her now to say that wolf's name. "It was her birthstone, and I am certain she would want you to have it."

Wolf didn't answer her, but she could see the tears in his eyes, and a soft whine of grief came from his throat as he solemnly and ceremoniously put the ring in his pocket. His silence said more than enough.

"Second," she said, "I was hoping that I could be Virginia's maid-of-honor. I know I am rather old for the role, but I am unmarried, so unless she has friends closer to her age who could take the position...?"

Virginia, who had been leaning back against the bedpost with the heel of her hand pressed to her forehead, shook herself and smiled apologetically. "That's very kind of you, Your Majesty, but I was planning to ask Cinderella to be my matron-of-honor."

"Oh...well, perhaps we could share the duties?" Carmine smiled in what she hoped was a motherly fashion. "After all you have lost, and what occurred with your mother, you deserve to have as many people stand up with you as possible."

"Then...I would be happy for you to be my maid-of-honor." Virginia took her hand and patted it gently, smiling.

Wolf had his hands clasped before his face and was regarding her candidly, insightfully. "And what is the third request?"

Carmine braced herself and leaned forward, holding out her hands to him. "I was hoping that you could teach me about wolves...show me what your people are truly like, so I may never misjudge them again. And...I was hoping that now, you and I could talk about our memories of...Cerise."

The look Wolf gave her was indescribable. She saw things there she had never seen before, things she had never imagined, things that surpassed her understanding of Wolf and of wolves in general. She saw what Virginia must have seen many times. She saw what her sister must have seen in Duncan. It made her shiver, the power of his gaze, it made her heart pound, it made her tears burn trails of fire down her cheeks. Most of all she saw something that she had believed impossible—respect.

"I would love nothing more," he replied humbly, "than to speak with you about that...Aunt Carmine." The way he said it was no longer derisive and contemptuous. It was a wolf speaking to another member of his pack.

"Thank you...Nephew." She smiled at him, nervous but honest as she finally acknowledged the relationship between them.

He reached out then, across the intervening space, across the gulf that had separated Hood and wolf for centuries...and took her hands.


	23. Epilogue: A Wedding and Afterward

**Epilogue**: A Wedding…and Afterward

The wedding took place one week later in the chapel of Wendell's castle, after all interested parties had been given ample time to receive and answer their engraved calligraphic invitations courtesy of an euphoric Lord Rupert.

Virginia, not being a religious person, would have preferred another locale, but the throne room was in no condition for a ceremony of any kind—the burned and broken tiles, dais, and beams had been replaced, but the chandelier was still a twisted wreckage and the castle glaziers said it would take at least another two weeks to replace all the shattered windows. And the only other chamber in the palace large enough to hold all the guests, the ballroom, still brought painful memories to most of the wedding party, so there was little other choice.

Once the invitations had been sent and the location chosen, Virginia had left most of the planning to Lord Rupert, as she had intended, but on one point she remained adamant: the dress. Rather than allow the protocol master or a couturier to design it, she had requested that the Sixth Kingdom retinue—namely Prince Colin and Briar Rose—bring with them the emerald dress she had worn at the banquet at Rapunzel's castle so that it could be altered and refitted to be her wedding gown.

At first Lord Rupert had thrown a fit, but then when she described the dress to him his eyes had alit with the fire of fashion and a trousseau to die for. It would require him to rethink the color scheme for all the decorations, but that would not be difficult for his artistic mind. The greatest worry was whether the dress would arrive in time, considering the great distance between the Sixth and Fourth Kingdoms, but Rupert judged it would just make it.

Choosing the other members of the wedding party had proven effortless for the most part, although there had been a few surprises. Virginia had expected Wendell to lead the ceremony, but apparently a priest of some sort would do the honors because the young king elected to be Wolf's best man. Besides Cinderella and Carmine, the bridesmaids consisted of an eclectic combination of Nine Kingdoms and New York acquaintances: Candy and some of her other waitress friends, the Jackrabbit Jackpot croupier from Kissing Town, the Central Park vendor who had sold Wolf his self-help books (who agreed to attend only after Virginia had paid her husband-to-be's outstanding bill), and several ladies of the court who had been close companions of Tony's for the past eight months.

The lone exception to the selection process was someone whose attendance would be problematic, but whom there was no way Virginia could exclude: her grandmother.

As the frantic and meticulously detailed preparations for the wedding continued around her, she had thought long and hard. Despite her grandmother's usual besotted state, she was not a stupid woman. Candy and the other waitresses had been easily convinced to wear blindfolds when crossing through the portal as some sort of elaborate good-luck ritual, but such a subterfuge would never work on Lucinda Van der Walle, not by a long shot.

Luckily they didn't have to explain Wolf and his strange behavior any more. How Wolf had managed it, she had no idea—she'd been watching his eyes closely and knew he hadn't used his power of Persuasion—but somehow when the two of them had returned to New York he had convinced her grandmother that he was simply a very passionate, very intense actor who threw himself into his roles until some days he barely slipped back into his usual personality. He'd laid on all the charm as he explained that the day nine months ago when he had burst into the Gramercy Park apartment, he had been doing an improv reenactment of a modernized "Little Red Riding Hood" play. And it had worked, her grandmother had bought the whole thing, hook line and sinker.

The reason for their month-long absence had also been explained away as a sudden trip to a small European country not even on the map, a country from which Wolf hailed and where Christine had married the ruler and become a queen. Delicately Virginia had related the news that after spending time in this beautiful, pristine country she had met Christine again, and that not long afterward she had died. Her grandmother had taken the news even harder than she had expected, but had eventually recovered.

Now they faced a new challenge, figuring out how to get Lucinda through the magic mirror when she would not believe in such a far-fetched, nonsensical tale as what had really happened. As Virginia and Wolf had packed for the trip, they had discussed and discarded various wild yarns, and by the time the day came to leave they still had not decided on a course of action. But at least they would not have to worry about having Tony along, whom her grandmother still loathed, because her father had other urgent business to attend to.

As soon as he had learned that the Lewises were descended from the House of Charming, he had rushed off to Wendell at once to interrogate the king on the long-lost family—or more specifically, its wealth and holdings. As it turned out, the Charming family fortune was still extensive after all these years, and even more shocking was that Tony and Virginia were heirs to it all. After the vanishing of Lady Celeste and the death of her father, the sole representatives of the line had been brothers, sisters, cousins, no one who was a direct descendant of the Count Charming...until now. The most recent head of the House had recently died...leaving Tony the new Lord of the Western Mountains.

This announcement had made Tony as giddy as a schoolboy, and he had rushed off at once by carriage, by way of Hamelin, to inspect the family estate before the wedding. Virginia had been rather excited and relieved to learn this, as she had felt embarrassed and almost ashamed at being given titles by Wendell as rewards for their efforts on his behalf when they were not of royal blood. Now their titles were earned. At the same time, it flustered her to be confronted with another tangible sign of her nobility, and it had been with great gratitude that she had fled through the mirror with Wolf, putting off facing such a complicated issue.

New York was once again alien, strange, almost magical, such a contrast to the Kingdoms that Virginia realized anew she could never live here permanently again; Wolf's idea of a forest retreat was looking more and more attractive. Together they left the park, hailed a taxi, and sped on their way. The usual rush hour traffic slowed them down, but Virginia actually appreciated the delay (if not the frequent curses hurled into the smoggy air by both the taxi driver and the other motorists). It gave her and Wolf a chance to discuss strategy.

By the time they reached the lobby of her grandmother's building and were ascending in the elevator, they had concluded that they should stick as close to the truth as possible, and if worst came to worst, Wolf could resort to Persuasion until they got back through the portal.

When they were standing before the door and Virginia knocked, she heard the familiar voice ring out, asking who was there. And as she unlocked the door and swung it wide to allow her and Wolf inside, she answered the same as she always did. "It's only me, Grandma."

Her grandmother soon appeared, looking the same as ever, unchanged and unchangeable, with her tacky velour bathrobe and peach-colored hair pushed back in a style sixty years out of date, her thick layers of makeup and her ever-present champagne glass held in one unsteady hand. She tried to focus on them as they entered, a dazed and uncertain smile on her gaudily painted lips. "Oh! For a moment there I thought it was your mother..." She trailed off and the lonely, unhappy expression that crossed her face made Virginia want to cry. "But then that's not possible now, is it?"

Virginia bit her lip as she watched her grandmother totter about, seeming at a loss what to say or do as her usual routine was interrupted. She watched the old woman shrink before her eyes, shoulders slumping and skin sagging around her eyes and mouth as tears began to flow, smearing the mascara until it ran in unattractive black streaks like a rock star. She even noticed when her grandmother distractedly searched the room for Roland, her pampered poodle. They had told her the dog ran away, since there was no way they could explain Roland's true fate in Wolf's belly.

Before she could even attempt to find an answer, her grandmother seemed to recover her wits and smiled again. "Well anyway, come in, come in, both of you!" she clucked disapprovingly at their standing in the doorway, but as she shut the door behind them, she grinned slyly at Wolf, taking his arm. "Especially you, you handsome devil! Have you had any luck yet with getting that part you were looking for? My offer still stands, I do have connections, you know. Just one word from me and I can have all those Hollywood directors hopping and eating out of your hand."

Coughing to disguise a laugh, Virginia followed silently as Wolf regaled her grandmother with some completely fabricated and larger-than-life tale of his acting woes. By the time the old woman had commiserated over Wolf's imaginary plight, they were all settled on the living room sofas under the watchful gaze of the enlarged magazine covers bearing her grandmother's likeness in her heyday: Vogue, Cosmopolitan, and Fortune. Virginia was still trying to think of some way to ease the conversation onto the right topic when her grandmother did it for her. "Virginer!" she gasped, staring at her belly. "You've had the baby! Where is she, where is she?"

"It's a boy, Grandma," Virginia said diplomatically. "And he's not here, he's with Dad."

That was a lie, Warren was actually being taken care of by Wendell, of all people. She'd expressed her concerns about thrusting him into the role of babysitter when he knew next to nothing about infants, but he had insisted, saying it would only be for a few hours, and if he could handle being transformed into a dog and fighting his wicked stepmother, he could certainly deal with a baby. Despite visions of badly wrapped diapers falling off and her son innocently urinating all over the white royal uniform, she'd finally agreed. But she didn't want her grandmother to know about Wendell until they could be introduced face-to-face.

Her grandmother, meanwhile, was hovering between a dark frown and an agonized wail. "What? You mean you'd rather leave your baby with that lowlife than bring him to see me? Am I that awful, do you hate me that much, am I such a disgrace and an embarrassment to you, Virginer?"

That hit a little too close to the mark in some respects, but most of it didn't apply right now. "No, Grandma, that's not it at all. In fact we were coming here to tell you about the baby, and to bring you to meet him."

"You were?" Her face lit up with joy and she waved her champagne glass, spilling the liquor on the floor. "Well, why didn't you say so? Let's get going!"

"Wait, Grandma, there's more." Virginia looked at Wolf, waited for his nod of encouragement, and then said, "We also came...to invite you to our wedding."

This announcement was met with a stunned silence, and then her grandmother looked to Wolf for confirmation before putting her hands on her hips and shaking her head. "Well! It's about time, Virginer...I was beginning to think you'd stay living in sin all your life." Even as Virginia was protesting in indignation, her grandmother chuckled and smiled. "What are we waiting for? Now we have even more reason to hurry...where is it, darling? When is it?"

Virginia felt distinctly uncomfortable; now was when things got dicey. "Um...it's being held in the presence of that king I told you about—the one who was Mom's stepson before she..." She stopped. "And it's in four days."

Grandma froze, every line of her face etched out by her face powder and rouge, a look of reproach and resignation in her eyes. "Oh Virginer...I don't believe you! No sense of planning at all...well, I see I'll have to take over as soon as I get there. Wolf, be a good lad and fetch my trunks from the closet. We'll have to pack quickly if we expect to get there in time." She turned toward the bedroom hallway, setting down her glass on the edge of a coffee table and tottering off.

"No, Grandma," Virginia called. "You...you don't need to pack anything. The wedding is going to be here in New York." That was sort of the truth, since the portal was located here.

A snort of ridicule was her answer. "Virginer, you simply do not understand the importance of such a high society function. I must be dressed for the occasion, I have to take all the wardrobe I can manage to bring on such short notice—especially if royalty is to be present." She imperceptibly straightened, looking down her nose as if practicing the manner in which she would greet Wendell.

Virginia kept her groan barely audible. She didn't want her grandmother to stay in the Kingdoms any longer than necessary—with luck, she'd think the whole thing, or at least the more fantastic aspects of it, was a booze-induced hallucination. And anyway, they hadn't brought any servants to carry the countless pieces of luggage her grandmother would insist upon. "Don't worry, Grandma, King Wendell has plenty of servants and designers and couturiers there who'll make sure you're suitably attired." She crossed her fingers.

The look her grandmother gave her was even more incredulous. "Really! And what would a minor European monarch know about the current fashions in New York City? Come, come, time is wasting!"

Feeling helpless, Virginia searched for another argument, but Wolf came to the rescue. "I'm dreadfully sorry, Mrs. Van der Walle, but you have just hit on the source of the problem." He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and leaned in confidingly. "We simply haven't the time for you to pack, we are expected this very day, and King Wendell doesn't wish to be kept waiting. You know how royalty is." He flashed his golden wolf eyes at her.

For a moment her grandmother looked as if she were about to give him a good tongue-lashing for his impertinence, but then she slowly relaxed, smiling vaguely, before sighing and lifting one hand to pat his cheek. "Such a nice boy...it's hard to believe you were so convincing as the Big Bad Wolf! Very well, if that's how it must be. It's so good to see that you, at least, know all the proprieties of high society. Punctuality is critical." She glared at Virginia. "You should be taking notes, Virginer." Air-touching her curlers, she looked around the apartment with a brisk manner. "I trust, though, that you will at least let me change out of my nightwear?"

As soon as her grandmother was out of the room, Virginia heaved a sigh of relief and looked gratefully at Wolf. She might not have wanted to have him use his magic on her, but as long as they got the results they needed, she couldn't complain.

In half an hour's time her grandmother was on her way out the door with them in an elegant teal gown suitable for tea parties, with a matching set of pale green handbag, muff, stole, and broad-brimmed spring hat with a trailing sash of silk. Virginia had to admit her grandmother looked better than she remembered seeing her since she was a little girl, but the way the old woman kept fussing over her curls was rather annoying, and they didn't have time for it. So, overruling her grandmother's constant appeals for another minute or two to find the perfect accessorizing jewelry or the right fragrance of perfume, she hurried her and Wolf to the elevator and outside to catch another taxi.

They hit another snag at Central Park when her grandmother protested vehemently about leaving the vehicle, until Virginia explained that the park was a shortcut to their destination and that the wedding was going to be held outside in any case. That had appalled her grandmother at first, but as they went along the familiar path, she seemed to become accustomed to the idea, even pleased. Then, finally, they arrived at the grove to find the mirror open for them, at which point her grandmother balked again.

"Virginer, what is going on here? This is not the way to any hotel I know, certainly none at which a king would stay! Have you been lying to me?" She gripped her handbag tightly, as if it were her only lifeline to reality, and peered fearfully around the isolated grove.

Taking her grandmother's hand, Virginia smiled reassuringly and pulled her along gently but inexorably. "I didn't lie, Grandma...I just fibbed a little. There are...some things you won't understand or believe until you see them for yourself."

Crossing her arms huffily, her grandmother turned away, chin lifted arrogantly. "How dare you say such a thing! I'll have you know I'm very open-minded, as long as it is something worth believing in, something you can prove."

Virginia closed her eyes and growled inwardly, even as a part of her noted she was becoming more and more wolf-like. She didn't have time for this. "C'mon, Grandma, just come with us and you'll see what I'm talking about. It'll all make sense."

Before her grandmother could protest again, she grabbed her elbow, took Wolf's hand, and stepped through the mirror, pulling them both through. The old woman screamed, trying to pull away, as the darkness and silence of the portal enveloped them, then blurred into the rushing blue-gray expanse of the passage between the worlds, her cries soon drowned out by the smashing glass. Virginia kept a firm grip, not letting go until they stumbled out of the Traveling mirror in Wendell's palace.

"Virginer...Virginer..." Her grandmother whimpered and pouted tremulously, clutching her handbag close as one hand went instinctively up to check her hat's position on her head. Virginia actually felt sorry for her as she looked around in fear and despair. "Wh-where are we...?"

"We're in the castle of King Wendell, Grandma," Virginia explained patiently. "We came through a magic mirror to the Nine Kingdoms...this is where Mom went, and where Wolf is from, and where the wedding is. We couldn't tell you, we had to show you."

"Magic?" the old woman scoffed, but her skepticism and doubt sounded faint and rehearsed, not truly convincing. "You expect me to believe..."

Sighing, Virginia shook her head and led the way out of the mirror alcove, guiding her grandmother through the maze of corridors to Wendell's study and the one person who could persuade the old woman that she was not dreaming. Along the way she and Wolf worked together to explain the background of the Nine Kingdoms, the fairy tales that were not imaginary after all, and the adventures they had all experienced here. By the time they arrived at the study, Lucinda was thoroughly confused and frightened.

Luckily the king was at work at his desk and answered Virginia's knock at once. When they stepped inside, Virginia saw Wendell was conferring with Lord Rupert about some dithering wedding detail or other. Both men looked up inquiringly but pleasantly at her grandmother.

After introductions had been made, things settled into more of a sense of normalcy. The king's calm facade, his aristocratic and commanding demeanor, were extremely reassuring to Grandma, Virginia could visibly watch the strain and wildness leave her eyes, her muscles relaxing slowly as she became more and more comfortable, at ease with someone she deemed of the same class.

After a long and rather dull discourse on the burdensome duties and obligations of the rich, the elite standards that were so hard to maintain, Wendell got down to business and regaled her grandmother with the condensed version of Nine Kingdoms history. The pedantic and no-nonsense tone he adopted persuaded Lucinda, more than anything else, that what she was hearing and experiencing was real.

And as soon as she realized the castle in which she stood was where her beloved Christine had ruled as a queen, she was at once charmed and delighted, pestering Wendell with all sorts of questions about his former nursemaid. The king looked quite distressed, haunted by his memories and his need to carefully edit the truth, but managed to satisfy her grandmother's curiosity. In the process he revealed things Virginia had never known, things that alternately saddened and upset her, until she had to look away before her grandmother could see her tears.

It was not until Lord Rupert casually mentioned that the wedding would be a royal one that her grandmother became incredulous again. "I can believe Wolf is a prince, I always knew you were hiding something, my boy!" Lucinda smiled with her painted lips and gently pinched Wolf's cheek. "But Virginer, don't give yourself airs! You are very lucky to marry into a royal house, but you know better...your worthless father could never be a lord."

"On the contrary, madam," Wendell replied diffidently, "the lineage is quite clear if you look at this family tree." He held out a large, leather-bound tome he had laid out on the desk for this express purpose, since Virginia had anticipated a certain obstinacy on her grandmother's part. "Anthony's grandmother was named Celeste, was she not? Well, here is her name in the Charming branch of my house. She is of the finest pedigree...as are Anthony and Virginia."

Her grandmother pursed her lips, but said nothing for a long time as she gazed down at the spidery script in the book. Finally she sighed, threw her hands in the air, and shrugged unevenly. "Oh very well, have it your way! They're royalty..." She sniffed disdainfully, clearly seeing the upper class as having been lowered several notches in order to accept its newest members. But then she chuckled and smiled with a gleam in her drunken eye. "In that case, this will indeed be the finest wedding you will ever see for ages to come, Your Majesty! Please, please, let me see what plans have been drawn up for the ceremony."

Wendell tried to dissuade her, saying the details were being handled competently by his servants, but she would not be denied. With ill grace Rupert at last took her to the table where he had laid out the seating plans, menu, flower samples, streamer swatches, and preliminary dress sketches. As soon as she saw them, Lucinda let out a horrified shriek and shoved them aside. "No, no, no! Those won't do at all, at all! How dreadfully ghastly and horrid! I see I shall have to take over from here...I only hope there will be enough time to salvage something worth saving..."

Lord Rupert glared at her in indignation, his face flushing crimson, then purple. It was the first time Virginia could ever recall seeing him angry. "How dare you!" he exploded at last, clenching his fists and pounding them on the table. "Madam, I will have you know that I studied under the Lady of Banbury Cross herself, and she always gave me the highest marks at her school of etiquette. She said I was her finest student, and her standards would not permit her to lie. Why, my finest graduation present came from her, this ring here and one of the bells from her toes!" He tapped an enormous emerald ring he wore on his left hand, then sniffled as emotional tears welled up in his eyes. "All the lords and ladies say I throw the best parties in the land!"

Her grandmother looked disdainfully down her nose at the courtier and snorted. "And this is supposed to impress me? I went to Vassar, and I was the Valedictorian. My soirees have been praised by JFK Jr., the Vanderbilts, the Rockefellers, the Carnegies...I know far more than you ever could. Know your place, servant, and let the true wedding planner take her rightful position." She posed theatrically.

Rupert looked ready to come to blows. Virginia groaned and covered her face.

The next several days lived up to her low expectations, as her grandmother and Lord Rupert argued and nitpicked and insulted each other to no end, preventing any real work on the wedding from being accomplished. They even dissolved into the pettiness of children, where one would sneak in at night to steal the other's designs, or pull down crepe paper and ribbons that had been put up the day before, or re-dye a wedding gown until the fabric would hold no more color and became a ruined mélange of sickly hues.

The final straw came when, after a screaming match, both Lucinda and Rupert stood with chests heaving and livid faces in the lord's chambers, dripping and covered with paint and dye they had dumped on each others' heads. At this point Wendell stepped in and commanded them to cease this pointless bickering or he would banish them both from the Fourth Kingdom. That finally got through to them, and slowly, tentatively, they began working together on the project. A compliment here, a droll observation there, and soon the two were laughing and smiling, developing a mutual respect for each other. Virginia breathed a sigh of relief.

Other worries still beset the ceremony, however. The time of Wolf's cycle was rapidly approaching—in fact, if the calculations were correct, it would start the day after the wedding—and Wolf was horrified he was going to ruin the ceremony with his irritability and short temper, or that the honeymoon would turn into an orgy of blood and mating.

But Virginia reassured him, over and over, that she loved him and that it didn't frighten or upset her. She promised him the wedding would go off as planned, and that if it became necessary, they would chain him up until his cycle was past and go on the honeymoon afterwards. As for the orgy, she grinned, that sounded enticing and incredibly arousing. To her amusement and surprise, she actually got Wolf to blush with that comment.

Elsewhere, Candy and the other waitresses from the Grill on the Green, as well as the Central Park vendor, were becoming rather suspicious and curious about their new surroundings despite being told that the castle and livery were some sort of fantasy wedding theme, and were asking questions that Virginia found hard to answer. In the end, when a fairy seamstress darted in a window to take their measurements, she smiled lamely and was forced to confess all, identifying Wendell's castle and enumerating the details of where it was located.

Candy, not possessing great intellect, accepted it without even batting an eye. The other waitresses, and especially the vendor (whose name was Geraldine), were more skeptical and dubious, but when Virginia showed them the Traveling mirror and how it worked, they finally caved in. To their credit, they took it in stride and even began indulging in the fairy tale lifestyle, fulfilling fantasies most women secretly held in their hearts, particularly those who lived in limited, stultifying surroundings. Virginia, remembering her own jaded attitude and lack of patience with tourists back in New York, understood completely.

The only thing she didn't understand was Geraldine's preoccupation with the illustrated histories in Wendell's library, which intensified to the point that the young king had to post a guard to ensure the vendor did not attempt to smuggle a few volumes back through the mirror with her. Enough trouble had been caused, he said, by the authorized (and rather inaccurate) flow of information about the Nine Kingdoms to the Tenth.

Another problem, however, was not so easily solved. Ever since Carmine had elected to be her bridesmaid, the newspapers had all carried blaring, shocked headlines, and the queen of the Second Kingdom had been subjected to whispered rumors, puzzled looks, resentful stares over the shoulder—all courtesy of the palace staff. After stopping a few of the more blatant offenders in the halls, Wendell ascertained that his servants did not trust Red Riding Hood III. They had seen firsthand how Wolf had risked his life for the Kingdoms and saved them all, and so they had become almost fanatically loyal to him.

They also knew how Carmine had made no secret of her denunciations of wolves, she flaunted it and took pride in it just as she did the executions and hateful proclamations. Wendell's servants could not believe that Carmine could make such a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree change so quickly, they suspected a dark motive, a false facade to placate the wolf-lovers until she could obtain the information she needed to destroy her enemies. It was not until Wolf spoke up in his aunt's defense and Virginia testified to the queen's decisions regarding her fiancé and wolves in general that the naysayers were silenced.

However, these revelations created a new problem—among the other rulers of the Kingdoms. Already confused by Carmine's obvious endorsement of the wedding, they became incensed at the changes Red planned to implement. Some, like Leaf Fall and Gerome, did not trust her either and believed she would go back on her word, betraying the wolves at the first opportunity.

Others, like Old King Cole and Alberich, refused to accept that wolves deserved consideration and acceptance; they insisted that Wolf was an exception, a lone bastion of honor and nobility in an otherwise vicious and bloodthirsty race. They demanded the laws stay the same, for the safety of the common people, they claimed. But Virginia, sitting in on the council meetings, could see the irrational hatred in their eyes and knew better.

This time she did not have to do anything, it was Carmine herself who undermined the objections and withstood the weathering scorn and scathing contempt of the other monarchs. She called them on their prejudice, saying she recognized it well from her own heart. She took them to task for not supporting the wedding by implication, and lent her support to Wolf and Virginia...and then she dropped the bombshell that he was her nephew and she acknowledged him as such.

Denial was rampant among the kings and queens, but Carmine would not be shunted aside. She laid out the facts of Wolf's birth and the heritage Cerise gave him, and that she had granted him his princehood. Then with a core of steel in her voice she stressed that he was now the Baron of Red Riding Hood Forest, in charge of all the wolves and the justice granted to them. She noted that she was not a fool, that she knew wolves were no more saints than they were sinners, and that the safety of the people and the execution of the laws would not be compromised.

Wolf would be overseer of his people—who better, after all, to police and supervise the wolves? They would be much more likely to obey him, and to accept his punishments than they would hers, and he would know better than humans what wolves were capable of and what they were not, what would warrant chastisement and how it should be carried out. He would ensure that all had fair trials, and under his guidance wolves and humans would come together for mutual advantage.

Slowly, with much grumbling, the council agreed to her proposals and withdrew their objections. Virginia felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted off her chest, but she knew this was only the beginning of the threats, dangers, and outright rebellion that would greet Carmine's decisions. This was not a small matter, it would not be dealt with readily or to the satisfaction of all in the next few days, let alone the years to come. But for now it was defused, and she could return to the wedding preparations, which seemed almost pleasant by comparison.

The final problem, which seemed so petty and inconsequential now after what had transpired, was the dress. The bridesmaids' gowns, the men's suits, and the decorations were ready by two days before the wedding, and all of the cooks had gathered in the enormous palace kitchens to begin the extensive marinating and obsessive attention that Wolf demanded for the reception, but the most important article of clothing had not yet arrived. Finally, that afternoon, the royal coach of the Sixth Kingdom pulled into the driveway of the castle, and everyone began to relax.

The greetings and embraces were warm and effusive as Virginia and Wolf welcomed Prince Colin and Princess Briar Rose. Arundel and Rapunzel directed their seamstress to take the sea-green dress to Rupert at once, and then departed to seek out King Wendell, whom they had of course never met, so as to learn all the history—and gossip—they had missed during their eighty year sleep. The Pied Piper and his fiancée, for their part, came eagerly to Virginia's chamber to see little Warren and to hear the tale of all that had occurred since they had parted ways.

Long into the night they talked, frequently interrupting each other as they related the tale of the Ice Queen's downfall. Finally, close to midnight, Colin sighed and sat back, content and pleased. "You see, milady?" he said a trifle smugly. "I told you you would succeed, that you were a great heroine who had all the power she needed to triumph. You should learn to listen to those who believe in you. You should believe in yourself. Bards will long sing of your victory."

Virginia blushed an attractive shade of red, but before she could demurely reply, Briar Rose was giving her betrothed a suggestive look, nudging him in the side. The Piper coughed, and then the princess smiled sweetly. "Lady Virginia, what Colin is not telling you is that a lay has already been composed and written of your adventure...by Colin himself. With your permission, he would like to play it as I sing." Her tone brooked no argument.

Wolf smiled broadly, then began to laugh as the Piper's sullen, embarrassed expression matched almost precisely his own whenever Virginia volunteered him for a duty. But she guessed Colin was not as averse to the task as he pretended, for a small smile of delight touched his lips as he removed the familiar pipe from its satchel and began to play. The song was set in a minor key, very Elizabethan—in fact it had echoes of "Greensleeves" but with extra trills and arpeggios that only made the tune more beautiful. The second time through Briar Rose began to sing, and her voice was as clear, sweet, and lilting as any Virginia had ever heard:

_"The Traveling mirror brought her hither,_  
_The Spying mirror gave her sight,_  
_The Seeking mirror guided her way._  
_From darkness she came to light._

_All hail the Lady Virginia!_  
_Bow in deep genuflection!_  
_Destiny chose her path_  
_But her strength lay in her reflection._

_With noble Wolf she traveled west,_  
_To save the Kingdoms was their intent._  
_To find the fire, the Ice Queen's bane,_  
_'Twould break her cruel ensorcellment._

_All hail the Lady Virginia,_  
_She who came to set us free!_  
_Magic was her heritage,_  
_Yet her heart is her true gift to thee._

_A haughty Piper seeking love,_  
_A bitter queen who denied her sin,_  
_A lonely dragon, in shadows lost_—  
_What each sought could be found within._

_All hail the Lady Virginia,_  
_Who quested in diverse company!_  
_Who was so bold to face the cold_  
_And thus fulfilled her destiny._

_The May Queen's maze, the ogre's hunger,_  
_Red Riding Hood's fierce passion_—  
_The greatest task was the dragon's heart._  
_Which couldst not withstand her compassion._

_All hail the Lady Virginia!_  
_Her will of iron, her heart so pure!_  
_The House of Charming's rightful heir,_  
_But the Kingdoms are her future._

_The risen Beauty, the pardoned wolves,_  
_Change so sweeping in her wake._  
_The Ice Queen, banished, forgotten, lost,_  
_A new world is now ours to make._

_All hail the Lady Virginia!_  
_No evil power can bar her way!_  
_Savior, mother, protector, friend..._  
_O may she be here to stay."_

By the time the song was over, Virginia had tears in her eyes and Wolf was holding her hand, whimpering in joy. The ballad was even more moving and touching than those that had been composed after their last adventure, for it was written by someone who had spent days on end in her company, someone who loved her and cared for her, someone who understood all she had lost and all she had gained. It also made even more vivid and real how much had truly happened, what she had set in motion, how Happy Ever After spread outward from her hand.

The only explanation, she realized, was the silver lining...in making Daviander happy, one who had for so long been without happiness and whose heritage was exile and loss, the blessing had been required to change the entire Nine Kingdoms forever. Nothing would be the same. And with all the good that rippled across the land, Daviander could not possibly be exempt. Not this time.

The next morning, after a long, quiet, earnest talk with Colin and Briar Rose, fittings and alterations began on the wedding dress, to Virginia's delight. As her grandmother and Lord Rupert worked on extending and stitching the material, her father and Wolf brought her food and drink to keep her strength up and Carmine and Cinderella gave their opinions on the gown. It was an all-day affair, and by the time it was over, Virginia was exhausted and only wanted to nurse Warren and get to bed early, for the following day was the wedding itself.

Since they would be adhering to the tradition of the groom not seeing the bride before the ceremony—no need for bad omens in a land like the Nine Kingdoms—she and Wolf spent a blissful night together in her room. Afterwards, as her husband-to-be slept, Virginia stood by Warren's cradle and smiled down at him, stroking his cheek. She looked up, out the window and over the breezy balcony to the moon-washed forests and snow-capped mountains in the distance, and sighed. She was happy now, she was finally happy, and for once she believed she deserved it, and that it would last.

There was no guarantee it would, of course, life was a series of hills and valleys, even in the Kingdoms. And all had seemed peaceful and safe after their first adventure, too. But if some future calamity awaited them, she would face it as determinedly as she had the Ice Queen. Because with Wolf by her side, and so many who loved her supporting her, she knew she could not fail. Happy Ever After wasn't a magical spell to ward away evil and make life perfect.

Conflict would always exist—at the very least she and Wolf would likely spend a great deal of time traveling between the Fourth and Second Kingdoms, helping to keep the peace for the next several weeks and months, and beyond. No, Happy Ever After was a reward, a long life and a certainty that no matter what threats assailed, she and Wolf would be there for each other, would fulfill each other's lives, and that the good and just and kind would ultimately prevail. That was enough for her.

The day of the wedding dawned gorgeous and still, halcyon and fresh with the renewal of life. Virginia was so incredibly nervous as her dressmaker and maid helped her change into the dress that it felt as if her stomach were filled, not with butterflies, but dragons, all flapping their leathery wings at once. But she would not back out on Wolf, she was just afraid she would do or say something wrong.

When she was finally ready, she descended to the first floor of the palace, walking slowly and with dignity—not just because of the solemnity and regality of the occasion, but because she was still getting used to the weight of the enormous silver crown on her brow. It was a Charming family heirloom, brought back from the Western Mountains by Tony, and by coincidence or fate, it fit her exactly.

The dress, too, was formal and even more stunning than she remembered. Besides the diamonds and pearls adorning the swirling cloth, there were now rubies and emeralds, gold lame stitching, and a golden belt that gathered and tucked the material tightly to her slimmer waistline. Hanging from the belt was a golden pendant, engraved and etched in a Victorian design, matching the locket she wore—another Charming heirloom, containing a tiny hand-painted portrait of her ancestress, Lady Celeste. It made her proud to wear her great-grandmother's picture, it made her feel she truly belonged.

Four feet of emerald train swished and dragged along the carpeting behind her and a gauzy green veil, like spring mist, hung from her crown over her face as she reached the doors of the chapel vestibule. She felt a twinge of sadness that she could not wear a wedding dress of virginal white, but she rather felt green was more her color, and it was a way for her to break from tradition and make her own mark on the Kingdoms. Smirking to herself, she opened the door and stepped inside.

The room, dark-paneled and brooding with elaborate wood-carvings and ornate, ponderous candelabra, was empty except for Tony, who turned to her with a huge smile and tear-filled eyes. "Honey, you look...you look wonderful." He held out his hands to her.

Once the train was inside, Virginia crossed to her father and took his hands, looking up at him with more love than she had ever felt. He looked wonderful himself, in a burgundy suit of finest velvet. The jacket was of Fourth Kingdom design, with golden epaulets and a royal coat-of-arms stitched over the breast. Displayed prominently was his Medal of Valor, shined and polished for the occasion, but the biggest surprise of all was the golden crown he wore. Bejeweled and gleaming, it outshone any royal accouterment she had ever seen except Wendell's own crown.

It also reminded her, humorously and startlingly, of the crown he had worn in her magic-mushroom dream in the Deadly Swamp. She wondered about that; at the time she had thought the dream to be some weird Electra-complex, or a twisting of the truth concerning Christine, but suppose it had been a hint at the future? Could this be something else she had never known about her father? He was a lord by lineage, and she had never believed such a thing possible.

She was reminded, suddenly, of Rapunzel's words concerning Tony—the queen had said that she was blind to her heritage. At the time she had thought Rapunzel only meant not knowing about the Charming bloodline he had unwittingly passed to her. But what if the queen to whom truth was so critical had meant more? Virginia had always shortchanged her father, never giving him enough credit.

To be sure, no one could have predicted he would turn out to be royalty, and he was still very bumbling and idiotic at times. But he had always had a strength to him that had held her up when nothing else could...a determination to succeed even when it was impossible...a belief in right over wrong, a genuine love for her that had sustained her when her mother left them.

Tony had always been her staunchest supporter, he had always been there for her, even when she didn't realize it or couldn't admit it—in the journey through the Fourth Kingdom he had done so many things that had gone unnoticed. It had been his wish that had enabled them to talk to Wendell; he had defeated the Trolls (even if he had trapped Wendell in gold as well). Even if a magic bird had helped him, he had been the one to obtain the magic axe. It had been his ideas that helped them win the Beautiful Shepherdess Competition, and his determination to make up for his wrong that had restored Wendell.

He had discovered the well, confronted Wilfred Peep, and exonerated Wolf when her defense at the rigged trial had bombed. He'd been the only one to win any money at the casino and use it at the auction, and while he had broken the magic mirror, she couldn't deny that her romantic evening with Wolf had been irresponsible and kept her from being there to help after the Huntsman made his ultimatum. His faults and his mistakes had always overshadowed his victories and loyalty to her. In the end it had been his selfless decision to face the Trolls alone that had left her undisturbed so she could deal with the Evil Queen.

And of course that was only in the Kingdoms. She knew now that all her life he had been there for her, he had never deserted her or hated her or said he resented her or didn't want her. She had taken out her anger at Christine on him, but he had not deserved it, he had done nothing wrong. He was not the best father in the world, but he was still a very good one.

She knew now, after almost losing him, that she had taken him for granted. And she would never do that again.

Standing on tiptoes, she kissed his cheek and then hugged him tightly. "I really love you, Daddy...you know that, don't you?"

"Of course I do, Pumpkin." Tony looked embarrassed but inordinately pleased.

At that moment the sound of the processional music sounded from the chapel, the familiar strains of "Here Comes the Bride"; while in New York she had picked up some sheet music, which the castle organist had excitedly perused at once. She suspected she had started a new trend in weddings.

The doors opened and Lord Rupert appeared. "It's magic time!" He beamed at them both, then patted Virginia's cheek. "You are a vision of loveliness, milady."

Smiling fetchingly, she stepped to Rupert's side and peered through the doors. As far as Virginia had been able to conclude, religion in the Nine Kingdoms was reminiscent of medieval Catholicism, and what she saw only strengthened her suspicions. She saw that the term "chapel" belied the chamber beyond, for it had more the size and design of a cathedral nave. Statues of kings and saints adorned the walls and ceiling, stained-glass windows lined the transept, and a mural of Prince Charming kissing Snow White in the glass coffin covered the dome of the apse. Before the altar, a bishop stood in golden robes and miter to officiate, with Wendell and Wolf waiting beside him—one decidedly patient, the other decidedly _im_patient. She giggled in spite of herself.

At the far end of the chamber, a bank of mullioned windows opened onto the rear lawns of the castle, letting in the light of day. In the sky above, Daviander flew and blew balls of churning fire, executing daring moves and creating amusing flame-shapes to entertain the hundreds of guests seated in the pews. Everywhere there was green and red bunting, ferns and intertwining ivy, a profusion of red roses, violets, and pink gladiolus, and the standards of the three houses to be joined—Red, White, and Charming. It was all so impressive and shocking she felt faint, and would have collapsed if her father hadn't caught her elbow in time. So many people, all here for her...for what this wedding meant...

Finally, when she had recovered her composure, she swallowed hard, managed a tight, quick smile, and then offered her arm to Tony. "Shall we?"

He looped his arm in hers as the last, questioning organ note sounded and nodded, leading the way through the doors.

* * *

Wolf shifted from one foot to the other and wrung his hands, scratching his temple every now and then as he waited anxiously for his creamy dreamy bride to come down the aisle to him. The burgundy velvet suit he wore—it was, in fact, the exact same one he had rented for the romantic evening at the restaurant in Kissing Town, brought by special delivery for the ceremony—was extremely hot, or it seemed so to him.

Of course, the suitjacket had been redesigned with thicker shoulders, and a heavy, crimson, royal cloak draped his lean, muscled frame. Now that he was a prince, he knew he had to look the part. But it wreaked havoc on his already nervous body, and was becoming decidedly musky. Wendell, he noticed, didn't seem bothered by the heat, although he also wore a royal uniform of the same burgundy hue.

Glancing down into the chapel pews, he found his eyes drawn unerringly to Red Riding Hood III, sitting in the front row beside Virginia's grandmother to conserve her strength. Periodically she would wince and press a hand to her stomach, at which point he would feel an answering twinge in shoulder or forearm, almost as if they were bonded together.

And so they were, in many ways. At the moment she was holding Warren, and he knew by the protective gleam in her eyes that it would take a raging tigress to divest her of her grand-nephew. Oddly enough she seemed more at ease with the wolf-cub's tail than Warren's own great-grandmother, who still had difficulties concealing her uneasiness and discomfort. So many things had changed.

And it was all because of Carmine. He still could not believe what she had done for him, he found himself waiting for the other paw to strike, for the dream to shatter. He felt like Rip Van Winkle, waking up to a world completely altered from the one he had always known, except that only two weeks had passed rather than a hundred years, and he had been awake and a direct witness to the change and how it occurred. His aunt had found it in her heart to forgive the wolves, to end the hatred and prejudice, and now because of her he was finally free...and a prince!

For a long time, in fact for all of his life, he had despised his heritage, had been infuriated that he was connected to the House of Red. He had certainly never imagined that he would be granted recognition, nor had he sought it. One part of him had felt he did not truly deserve it because wolves were filthy animals; the other part felt he would be betraying his kind, turning his back on them by acknowledging his human half and his rank in human society.

But now that he was here, now that he had been made a prince, he found he not only accepted it, he liked it...he embraced it. For it brought him the sense of family and pride he had lost long ago. And it would, he knew, enable him to do great good. Finally someone in power would be a wolf, finally a wolf could act on behalf of his brethren to bring peace, justice, and prosperity, and with the full sanction and support of the House of Red.

He realized now that his father had spoken the truth. In the May Queen's hedge maze he had declared that one day Wolf would thank him for taking away his vendetta and revenge, and Wolf now knew this to be a fact. For if he had not put an end to his hatred and bitterness, he would never have convinced Red that wolves were not savage beasts, he would never have been able to persuade her she was wrong, and she would never have aided in the battle with the Ice Queen or agreed to pardon him and Duncan and end the persecution against wolves. And one thing more...he would never have found hope and understanding with Carmine.

Wolf found himself smiling down at the queen of the Second Kingdom. Not long ago he could never have believed this possible, he had hated her so much. But he saw now that she was not a heartless creature, not like the Ice Queen. She had feelings, and could love, and sympathize, and hurt, and feel guilt. Most of all he had seen how wrong he was when she saved his life in the throne room...when she came at Virginia's call...when she risked her own life by the yawning void of the Lethe mirror, and nearly died from her wound.

She could change, and she had. She was family, all he had left except for Celia and her kin, and now there was so much he had to say, to feel. They had talked long into the night the evening she came to Virginia's room to make her confessions and to make amends. They had shared so many memories of Cerise...but he knew there was still so much more to say.

He fingered his mother's ring in his pocket and closed his eyes for a moment. Now he had that chance. He had all the time in the Kingdoms to share in that closeness with she who had been the center of his life until Virginia.

Sighing, he looked around the chamber again. Most of the people here he didn't know, as they were the usual collection of dignitaries, ambassadors, minor lords and vassals, obscure titles and far-away travelers found at such gatherings, the guests Wendell was compelled to invite lest he give offense. But he did recognize certain notable exceptions: Colin and Briar Rose, Arundel and Rapunzel; Cinderella, Alberich, Olaf and Leaf Fall, the Naked Emperor's Great-Grandson, Old King Cole and his son, the newly-crowned King Gerome of the Eighth Kingdom and his son Gunnar; Benjamin Tell and his family, and even Corporal Andrew, promoted to a lieutenant (he reminded himself to thank the young wolf for what he had done at the first opportunity).

Everyone they had met in this journey and the previous one who had any reason to celebrate this day was here, and it filled him with such joy. He knew most of them were probably here for Virginia, and deservedly so, but he also guessed many were here for him too. Finally wolves were being accepted.

His thoughts were interrupted at that moment by the swelling of the organ music, and he turned eagerly toward the vestibule doors. First came the flower girls, Leaf Fall's youngest daughters and two tiny Ice Princesses, all of them with lazily flapping wings of green and blue. Then came the bridesmaids, demure and unassuming except for Candy, who still gave him embarrassed and sensual looks that reminded him uncomfortably of the storeroom of the Grill on the Green, and Geraldine, who looked as bemused and surprised as he was that she had accepted his wedding invitation.

And then finally Virginia appeared with Tony at her side, carrying a bouquet of irises and lilies, and his heart nearly stopped at how utterly gorgeous and beautiful she was. She had captured his heart with her most everyday appearance, but now...now she looked like a figure from the Golden Age given life and breath. He noticed she was trembling and being held up by her father, and he was not far from that condition himself. In fact he could sense Wendell at his side, supporting him.

Somehow the aisle of the chapel seemed a hundred feet long, but eventually Tony escorted his daughter to her place, gave her one last pat of encouragement and a kiss, and took his seat beside Cinderella. The music faded out, and the bishop began the invocation, but Wolf heard none of it. He heard nothing at all, for all his attention was riveted on Virginia. She seemed so radiant, so perfect, he couldn't hold back his whines and whimpers of pleasure. She shushed him, but he only chuckled and lifted a hand to brush across her cheek.

He was so caught up in ogling her, in fact, that he almost missed his cue for the vows. Virginia nudged him, and he flinched before he laughed sheepishly and took her gloved hands. "What can I say, Virginia? You're the better part of me, you're the one who inspires me to be who I am today. I wasn't truly alive until I met you...huff-puff, you turned everything around for me. Before I met you, I was so afraid of losing what I had, I clung to it until I did lose it, until I had nothing left. It was then, at my lowest low, that I met you. I took the opportunity for revenge and carnage that the Evil Queen offered and turned it into a dream come true. I found love and hope, and I saved the Kingdoms, and earned respect and acceptance. And it was all because of you.

"You are truly one in a million, my love. I promise to never let you down, to always be by your side and never leave you. I promise to love you, cherish you, honor you, and keep you, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse. Of course I will forsake all others, for you are my life's mate, until death do us part." He paused, squeezing her hands, her countenance blurred by his tears. "And while I cannot promise we will always be safe, I will always be there to protect you. But at the same time, I will let you grow up and be independent. I will stand over you, growling and fearsome, when the time calls for it...and I will also let you grow your own fangs and claws and leave the den to protect yourself. I will learn the difference between these times."

It was basically the pledges he had made to her in Red Riding Hood Forest when they were flying on their way back to the castle, couched in more formal and public terms and lacking the anguish and distress they had been spoken with before, when he had feared she would reject him.

Virginia looked up at him, her throat tensing and contracting with her intense emotions, her cheeks flushed with color. When she spoke, it was so softly he could barely hear her even with his sharp ears, but the chapel was so soundless he was sure everyone else could hear too. "Oh, Wolf...you don't know how much it means to hear you say that. Or actually, I guess you do know. You know everything about me, you know the secrets of my heart, because I let you in. You're the only one I've ever allowed in...because you're not like any other man I've ever met." She laughed.

"You can be so childish and silly sometimes, so temperamental and insecure, so unbalanced and needy. But I love that about you. You live on the edge, Wolf, and you take me there with you. Sometimes it's frightening, sometimes it's exhilarating. I know I've hurt you many times...but I promise I'll try as hard as I can not to anymore. I know there were times when you doubted me...when I doubted you. When others came between us. But I want you to know now that I think I figured out why that happened. It was...a dalliance, flirting with the idea of being with someone else, my last chance at escape. It's my defense mechanism, to run away and be afraid of something new...especially love. And to be honest, the attraction for someone a little more predictable, a little more stable and safe, is great.

"But your unpredictability is part of your charm, and one of many reasons why I love you. I don't need anyone else, I don't need predictability. And you are safe for me, you keep me safe. Thank you for never turning away...for being there for me and helping me, even when I was stubbornly determined I didn't need your help and would do it all by myself. I promise to love you, cherish you, honor you, and keep you, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, forsaking all others, for you are my life's mate, until death do us part."

She went silent, and for a moment he thought she was done, but then a look crossed her face that told him she had decided something. "And you know why that is, why I keep coming back to you even though we've been through so much and had so many conflicting feelings? It's because, not only do I love you, but I never stop falling in love with you. Every day I fall in love with you all over again."

Then, quaveringly and untrained but in perfect pitch and key, she started to sing to him, and he recognized the song at once. It was one he heard on the strange device called a "radio", in the Tenth Kingdom, by what was called a "Celtic" group, The Corrs. And it was one of his favorite songs from her world.

_"Say it's true,_

_There's nothing like me and you._

_I'm not alone,_

_Tell me you feel it too. _

_And I would run away,_

_I would run away, yeah,_

_I would run away,_

_I would run away with you. _

_Because I_

_Have fallen in love_

_With you,_

_No, never,_

_I'm never gonna_

_Stop falling in love_

_With you."_

When she had finished, exuberant and enthusiastic applause filled the chapel, and she blushed prettily as she squeezed his hands back. At that moment he was so proud of her he could burst, and he beamed from ear to ear. His Virginia had so many talents...and that song expressed such a true and heartfelt sentiment, something so akin to Happy Ever After he was surprised it came from her world and not his. It was wonderful, just like her.

After the applause died down, the bishop went on with the ceremony, asking that the rings be exchanged. Wolf did as he was told, placing Cerise's ring on his creamy girl's left hand. (The singing ring had been moved to her right hand but had been assured it would be no less important or valued.) Virginia in turn placed on his hand a large gold ring surmounted by an opal surrounded by diamonds, a complementary match to the singing ring. It had been a gift from Wendell...a ring worn by Count Charming, Lady Celeste's father, and then by Snow White and her son Whitney. It was absolutely priceless, he couldn't believe he was wearing it.

The bishop solemnly performed the final ritual, tying their wrists together with a pink silken ribbon in the Charming family tradition. Then he moved into the benediction. "Then, by the power vested in me by God and the sovereignty of the Fourth Kingdom, I now pronounce you husband and wife." He smiled kindly at them. "You may kiss the bride."

Wolf lifted the veil back with his free hand and gazed searchingly at his wife's creamy, delicious face. Then he wrapped his arm around her and kissed her passionately.

The roar of approval was thunderous, shaking the entire chapel, but it could never be as loud as the pounding of his heart. It had finally happened. He had married her, Virginia was his wife, they were mates forever now. Nothing could ever distress or worry him again, all was right with the world. It fit together so snugly that nothing could ever tear it apart.

Needing air, he finally pulled away and turned with a foolish smile to face the guests. As he lifted their knotted hands high, he gazed out across the chapel—and then Virginia stiffened, gasped, and pulled on his hand, attracting his attention.

Following her gaze, Wolf saw two hazy figures standing at the back of the chamber, watching silently. He too flinched as he realized who they were. One was the great Snow White herself, he knew her instantly. The other was the Evil Queen, and she was smiling—not bitterly or coldly or slyly as he had known her, but tenderly, lovingly. Turning to look at Virginia, he saw tears streaming down her cheeks, and he hugged her close.

When he looked back, he received another shock. Two others stood with the queens...Duncan and Cerise.

His father was dressed as he had been in the hedge maze, while his mother wore a sea-green dress with a full skirt and a bustle, her blonde hair bound up in an intricate knot. It rather looked as if they had dressed to match the wedding party. Both of them were smiling and happy, something he could barely remember, since the pain and horror that had twisted their faces on the pyre was seared into his skull.

No one else in the chamber noticed anything amiss, except for two. Tony turned to look first, and nearly fell out of his pew. He half-extended one hand, a look of utter longing on his amiable face, and Christine echoed the gesture with just as much need and love. Then Carmine happened to glance that way, and as soon as she saw her sister, the queen froze, her mouth working inaudibly. Cerise waved sadly to her, then placed one hand on her heart as she blew a kiss with the other. At this Carmine began to weep and closed her eyes.

For several long, eternal minutes the applause continued as the four spirits hovered wordlessly, communing, granting them all a glorious gift. Then the Fairest of Them All sighed, turned, and guided her charges toward the doors. Before they had passed through, they had all vanished in a rush of mist and light.

Afterwards, nothing seemed to matter anymore, and all Wolf could feel was dazed and enraptured as Virginia led him down the dais into the aisle. He watched with an odd detachment as his wife threw the bouquet and Carmine caught it with a gasp of surprise. Then they were proceeding down the aisle toward the outer hall that would take them to the reception.

They had already filed out and were being followed by all the guests when Wolf came down off his unparalleled high of love and healing. Content and satisfied, he held Virginia's arm as they walked, and it was several minutes before he realized that someone was speaking behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he caught the last of what Tony was saying to Wendell.

"Well, Your Majesty, it's finally over. Now we can all go back to our normal lives. No more witches, no more evil magic, and no more worries. Now that the wedding's over, we've passed the last hurdle. I don't know about you, but I'm ready for years of relaxation and rest. I might just take a very long nap tomorrow." He smirked and stretched exaggeratedly.

Wendell eyed him speculatively, then slowly smirked back. "Why, Anthony, where is your sense of adventure? I'm certain if we poke around, we'll find something useful and exciting to occupy our time. In fact...I was told the other day that Old King Cole is missing his golden pipe and bowl. Perhaps when things have settled down, you and I can travel to the Fifth Kingdom to seek them out?" He winked suggestively.

Tony groaned and put his face in his hands. Wolf just grinned.

* * *

Smiling dreamily, Virginia sat in a small, tufted chair at the side of the ornate ballroom, fingering the knotted ribbon she now held in her hand as she watched the dancers whirl effortlessly by. Since there had been no other place to hold the banquet and dance, she could not avoid this room anymore, but seeing her mother's spirit one last time at the wedding had erased the pain, soothed her conscience, and laid to rest any buried ghosts there might be here. The ballroom was just a room now, beautiful and wondrous like so many places in the Kingdoms.

The reception had gone exactly as planned, with only one near disaster when Wolf, his eyes, mouth, and stomach fixated on the arriving platters of warm, juicy spring lamb, had almost crashed into and fallen upon the wedding cake trolley. Luckily Wendell had pulled him out of the way in time, but Virginia could still not keep from giggling whenever she thought of the look on Wolf's face.

Otherwise it had been a gorgeous, sumptuous meal, even outdoing the banquet at Rapunzel's castle. The main course had been a huge tureen of thick, hearty stone soup, and it was indeed as delicious, filling, and incredible as the old fable had said. She just hoped the stones had been removed from the pot early on. There had also been several types of chicken, worrying Virginia—it wouldn't do to roast the Little Red Hen or serve Chicken Little en flambé, even for an occasion such as this.

Then the dance had begun, with music provided by noneother than the Bremen Town Musicians, and Virginia had performed the obligatory first dance with Wolf. Somehow it had been even more romantic and wonderful than anything she had yet experienced with him, because now she knew she was married to him, united by holy matrimony forever and ever. That prospect didn't scare her, it only made her heart flutter and sent a tingling warmth through her body.

After the other dancers had taken over the floor, Virginia had settled into this chair to be out of the way, eating a piece of unbelievably rich wedding cake. She noticed all sorts of interesting little gatherings and cliques forming among the guests. Tony was regaling the Dwarf King and the Naked Emperor with the tale of Lady Celeste and his heritage, undoubtedly mending fences with the Ninth Kingdom for breaking so many of their mirrors.

Wendell was holding Warren and conversing with King Gerome, from time to time resting an understanding hand on the blue-haired monarch's shoulder. Prince Colin was playing his pipe for Leaf Fall, while Rapunzel and Lucinda were chatting with Old King Cole, her grandmother flirting outrageously. And Wolf was speaking low and earnestly with Carmine. She watched, puzzled, as he reached into the inner pocket of his suitjacket, and then he removed three books and pressed them into his aunt's hands.

Virginia peered closer, and then she caught the titles and began to laugh merrily. They were three of his self-help books: _Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway, Breaking the Cycle,_ and _Stop Blaming Yourself_—_Please!_ He had chosen aptly, and these books were likely to help Carmine, but the thought of the queen of the Second Kingdom with self-help books seemed incredibly funny to her.

As Red Riding Hood III ran her hands over the covers, then opened a book, read a passage, frowned, and furrowed her brows intently, Wolf turned and walked in Virginia's direction. Watching him, she sighed and shook her head in amazement. She could not believe, even now, how lucky she was to have him. And she couldn't believe how Carmine had changed and done so much to earn forgiveness. Her dream of betrayal had been so wrong. It would take time, both for the ill feelings to subside and for the wolves to be saved and become accepted, but she knew if anyone could make it happen, it would be Carmine.

Anyone else would have broken under the strain, would have killed herself or blindly remained adamant in her decision to keep the laws the same. But she was strong, she was at heart a good woman, and once she had seen the truth, there had been no going back for her. And she would be happier for it, Virginia knew. From her own experiences, guilt and pain for the death of a loved one were not easy to conquer, but doing so would relieve the queen's agony, just as forgiving her mother for leaving her and trying to kill her—which she had done as Christine stood in the chapel doorway—had relieved her own heart and brought her peace.

She rose as Wolf reached her and took his hand. "Everything all right?"

"You bet it is, Virginia. It's more right than it's ever been in a long time. Shall we dance to celebrate?" He chuckled and winked at her.

Virginia was about to consent when a shadow passed across the room, and she looked up.

High above, against the azure sky that arched over the glass ceiling the Huntsman's arrow had once shattered, the silhouette of Daviander sailed by. A twinge of guilt filled her as she realized that she had neglected him again—for good reason, but it would still have hurt the dragon. He might even be leaving this very moment!

"Not yet, Wolf," she whispered. "I think there's someone we need to talk to first."

He followed her pointing finger, nodded slowly, and put his arm around her as he led her to the doors.

Leaving behind the buzzing of conversation, the swishing of skirts, the treading of feet, and the strains of music, the two of them passed down the deserted halls of Castle White until they reached the front entrance. Stepping out into the brilliant sunshine, Virginia shaded her eyes until they adjusted, then looked about.

There on the leagues of grass that composed the front lawn, as if he waited for them, Daviander lay calm and sedate, his ebony scales gleaming and shimmering in the sun. He had to be absorbing great amounts of heat, but he did not seem uncomfortable at all, his smoke curling up lazily to the sky. He also, she noted wryly, showed no signs of being the worse for wear after his foray into drunkenness with Tony.

She led the way down the entrance drive to where the dragon waited, and as soon as she was close enough she called out. "Daviander! It's so good to see you again...I've missed you."

He lifted his chin from his forepaws and smiled at her warmly. "Lady Virginia...'tis a fortunate happenstance indeed to converse with thee again. Congratulations...thou hast defeated the Ice Queen and received thy just reward for thine endeavors."

Virginia nodded slowly, but she could not ignore the chill in her heart as she remembered anew what she had done. "Thank you, my friend...I do feel very lucky and happy, it's more than I've ever thought I could have." She took Wolf's hand and caressed it. "But...I can't help feeling I'm being rewarded for a violent, hateful act. I killed the Ice Queen. That's the second time I've killed now. No matter the motive or underlying cause, that can't be an honorable thing."

Daviander gazed at her expressionlessly for a long time, but then he frowned and shook his head. "Nay, milady...thy reasoning is flawed. It mayeth be that thy conscience and noble heart shall plague thee alway with doubt and uncertainty. But what thou didst for the Kingdoms canst not be scriven in the annals of history as a heinous sin. 'Twas Griselda or thou...self-defense is ne'er a murder, not when the one thou hast slain possessed no soul in her breast.

"Thou wert not niggard with thy courage, and as such, thou savedst the day for us all. I cannot ask thee to forget, to expunge it from thy heart, for an thou couldst, thou wouldst not be the woman I know thee to be. But...in time 'twill fade, so I ask thee to be patient. I have killed far more than thee, and in ruthless, unprovoked attacks, not for the benefit of all. Thy sins are verily minimal." The horror and self-loathing in his voice were palpable.

"And remember, sweetheart," Wolf interjected, "using the comb was the only way you could save your mother. It broke the spell and freed her...she is thankful to you, I'm certain."

The words were so similar to those he had spoken in her chamber two days after the coronation, and to Christine's own assurances in the hedge maze, that Virginia felt the tears flow yet again. Nodding to her husband in gratitude, she turned back to Daviander.

Here was one she still had to help.

"Oh, Daviander...don't blame yourself. You were misguided...you were hurt and suffering, you'd lost so much in your life you only wanted to take more away from those who wronged you. I understand so well...we've all done things we're not proud of, bad things. Wolf has, and I have, and Carmine has. The difference is now we're doing things to make up for them. You can too."

The dragon flinched as if burned, but then he closed his eyes and nodded in acquiescence. "Thou art truly wise, milady. I...am sorry I wronged thee, by thinking ill of thee. After thou describedst the manner of thy capture and kidnapping of Red Riding Hood, I thought in the silence of mine heart that thou wert not the heroine thou claimedst to be...that thou wert not good, that perchance I had aligned myself with one who might betray me. Now I know that thou art only imperfect...human. I hope that I can one day live up to the regard in which thou holdest me...and earn forgiveness for my crimes."

Virginia was the one now to feel remorse and sadness. She had not realized how deeply her dark actions had damaged her image, had hurt the Last Dragon and made him despair. No wonder he had distanced himself from her during the journey! There was no way he could have known if he would ultimately receive the same treatment as Carmine; the track record of humans had not done much to instill faith and trust in Daviander. She knew she had changed her vengeful motive to one of peace, hope, and goodwill, and that in the end she had succeeded in a great good. But it still hurt that she had pained Daviander in any way.

She was about to apologize and reassure him yet again when Wolf stepped in. "I...I'm sure you will, Daviander. In fact I hope you will more than you can ever know. I've dealt with hatred and prejudice all my life, I know how you feel. I've always thought the dragons were treated unfairly...and now, now that you're a hero, you've got a chance to set things right, to make a clean slate for dragons the way I have for wolves. I'm sorry if it seemed like I was ignoring you before this...I was just so busy, and I was afraid you'd think I was presuming to compare our lives..." He scratched his temple uncertainly.

Daviander blinked, and then Virginia was pleased to see respect, understanding, and acceptance in the dragon's azure eyes. "I thank thee, Lord Wolf...Prince Wolf. I shall never forget thine overtures to me, and I find it an honor and a privilege to count one of thy kind as my friend."

Virginia beamed as the dragon extended a foot so that Wolf could shake his claw. Then, after a long, pregnant moment of silence, Wolf chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "So...what are you going to do now, Daviander? Where will you go?"

The dragon took a long time in answering, and when he did he had his eyes cast to the horizon, seeing something beyond their vision. "I know not. First I must needs find a new home, to commence my sojourn. I must prove to the Kingdoms that dragons are good and noble once more, that we belong amongst civilized men and can bring unique talents and skills to profit all. Then...then I shall seek out others, learn whether I am the last. An others survive, I shall tell them of what hast occurred, and, God willing, restore them to the Kingdoms as well." He sighed. "I only wish that I could have something definitive to show them...an unassailable guarantee that they shall not be harmed, that they will be allowed to live in peace."

"Your wish is my command!"

Jumping almost a foot, Virginia whirled to see King Wendell standing calmly and imperturbably in the grass not far behind her, his hands clasped behind his back. She wondered when he had followed them, how long he had been standing there. Wolf and Daviander were similarly caught off guard, for they had been engrossed in the conversation and not attuned to their surroundings.

The young monarch strode to join them, walking unhurriedly and without pause until he stood directly below the ugly snout of the dragon, towering a hundred feet above him. He tilted his head, took a deep breath, and then continued.

"I could not help but overhear your desires, dragon," Wendell said honestly. "Believe me, I have considered your plight long and hard, burning many oil lamps late into the night since you freed me from my icy prison. You deserve so much for what you have done, but the true things you desire, that which would give you back your life, are beyond my power. I cannot undo your heartache and sorrow. I cannot take back the years of neglect, of hatred, of death and war. I cannot wipe away the memories of those you have lost, those the Kingdoms have lost, and pretend none of it ever happened, that by a magic spell all has been restored.

"No...but what is in my power, what I can do, is one thing. It is a simple thing with horrendous complications, a single act that will have many repercussions, but I make it in full knowledge of what may result from it, because I know it is required of me by protocol, by diplomacy, by gratitude, and by my stance as a moral man. So...without further adieu, I hereby pardon you and your kind."

Daviander's jaw dropped.

Wendell spread his hands in a proclamatory gesture, encompassing the land. "You are now free to settle wherever you wish in my Kingdom, providing you never harm one of my citizens without just provocation—which should never manifest itself, as I shall instruct my people to leave you well alone and refrain from persecuting or attacking you. Your actions have more than atoned for those of the dragon who slew the Seven Dwarves. I know this is what my grandmother would want. Last Dragon, you are forgiven."

At that moment Virginia wanted to hug Wendell tighter than she ever had and plaster his face with kisses, but she forced herself to remain still as an ecstatic happiness flared in her heart. Wolf was looking at the king with new eyes, as if he had finally been forced to revise his opinion of the arrogant ruler for good. And Daviander looked ready to collapse. Instead the dragon slowly lowered his head, bowing deeply before Wendell.

"I...I am at a loss for words, Thy Majesty. I...bear with my paltry excuse for praise and thanksgiving. Thou art my king and sovereign as of this day. Iwis, forasmuch as thou hast restored to me my life and mine honor, I shall serve thee with loyalty and instant compliance. I cannot thank thee enough..."

A sly smile crossed the king's face, and he lifted one hand to shake a finger reprimandingly. "Ah ah, I wasn't finished. That was only your general reward, the one that would benefit your species. I have another just for you, a personal one."

"Another reward?" Daviander stuttered.

"Yes. I took the liberty of consulting with the Spying mirror that belonged to the Evil Queen." Wendell spoke with exaggerated casualness. "It seems that there is another dragon alive whom you could seek out to bring back to the Nine Kingdoms. She lives on a lonely isle in the sea to the south of the First Kingdom—"

"She?" The roar of jubilation nearly ripped the leaves off the trees of the surrounding forest, several miles away from the estate.

"Oh yes, did I neglect to mention it was a dragoness? How thoughtless of me." Wendell winked.

A long look passed between dragon and king as Daviander took in this news, as it sank in what the monarch of the Kingdom he had hated for so long had done for him. So many emotions raced across his countenance, blurring by in rapid succession. Then tears began to stream down his cheeks, and he began to shake with his sobs.

"Milady...Lady Virginia..." he choked out. "Thou wert right...thy words were alway true...there are humans who careth...who loveth...who remaineth free of prejudice and malice. I took a chance on thee...that an I opened my heart and cared, I would not be hurt. And everything thou predictedst came true..." His voice came out as an awed whisper.

For several long minutes Daviander simply wept, cleansing and joyful tears. Then at last he raised his head and looked off into the wild blue, the southern sky, and there was something in his face Virginia had never seen before: hope, eagerness, even a certain excitement. "I...I shall ever be thy servant, call on me shouldst thou have need...but I must away at once, ere I lose my chance—I mean, ere the dragoness departeth and not receiveth my joyous news."

Virginia was at once stunned and amused. "But Last Dragon, I thought you couldn't, or wouldn't, take another mate!"

Daviander finally focused all his attention on her, and to her surprise his cheeks turned a vivid crimson, as if belling out with his fire. "I...that is true. But who saith anything concerning a mate? I have been lonely for so long...without a companion, a friend, one who understandeth me and canst sympathize with my plight from personal experience. An I find and speak with this dragoness, she mayeth well be that friend, that companion. I need ne'er be alone again."

He paused, his longing voice fading out, and then a sly grin crossed his dusky features. "Besides...one ne'er knoweth what will progress from friendship. Mayhaps by the time this dragoness feeleth some devotion and love for me, I shall have made my peace with my beloved Liraliss, and shall feel ready to pursue...other interests." He winked.

Realizing at last that Daviander was truly leaving, that she would not see him for a long time, if ever again, Virginia rushed to his side and threw her arms around his foreleg. "I'll miss you, Daviander...I'll never forget you..." she whispered. "You've taught me so much...I'll never think of dragons the same way again."

"And I, milady, shall ne'er forget thee," he rumbled softly, caressing her shoulder with one toe. "I may return thy words in kind...because of thee, I shall ne'er think of humans in the same manner. 'Tis a just and noble thing. But thou canst ne'er let thy sorrow encompass thee. We shall meet anon. Take care of thy son, and continue to do thy good deeds and fulfill thy destiny. I am grateful I couldst play a part in it. Rule thy people as thou rulest thine own heart, and all shall be well...for the Nine Kingdoms and for thee."

He turned then to Wendell and nodded once more. "Again...thank thee, great King. Because of thee, I have hope that I shall join mine astral brethren when I die. No gift can be greater than this. Farewell...to all of thee."

Gently disengaging from Virginia, the Last Dragon unfurled and spread his vast leathery wings, and for the last time Virginia watched through a sheen of tears as the ebony behemoth tensed all the colossal muscles of his haunches and limbs and hunkered down, launching into the air. Flapping and beating his wings, Daviander rose higher and higher, wheeling against the summer sky in ever-broadening circles, claws extended, head thrown back, jaws parted.

He let out a wild, unfettered, piercing shriek of defiance and joy, heart-stopping in the way it throbbed with emotions far too strong and pure to be bound by a name, let alone a heart, even one as massive as his. This was followed by a titanic blast of fire that exploded across the heavens, crackling and hissing and curling like a solar prominence in the sun's corona.

And then, wheeling about one final time, he turned toward the south, pumped his wings, and streaked away into the distance—as if shot from a crossbow, plunging into and tearing to shreds the fleecy, tranquil clouds that were slowly drifting toward the castle. Virginia was certain every one held a silver lining, ready to add their own blessings to the lands below.

And as she stood on the sun-drenched lawn of Castle White, holding hands with her beloved husband Wolf and her stepbrother Wendell while the fragrant scents of the flower gardens wafted past on the breeze, she knew something with a prescience and truth she could not explain, something that filled her eyes with even more tears.

She knew that Daviander was not the last of the dragons after all. He was the first of a new generation.

* * *

(A/N: And that's a wrap!)


End file.
